


Tom Holland One-shots

by peterrrparkour



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), tom holland - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Harrison Osterfield - Freeform, One Shot, Sam Holland - Freeform, Tom Is A Sweetheart, harrison osterfield fluff, harry holland - Freeform, harry holland fluff, some smut, tom holland - Freeform, tom holland angst, tom holland fluff, tom holland imagine, tom holland x reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-06-23 22:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15616608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterrrparkour/pseuds/peterrrparkour
Summary: collection of Tom Holland one-shots--also includes some Harrison Osterfield and Harry Holland





	1. Something More

_“Stay…”_

You shrugged off Tom’s fingers wrapping around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest as he moved his chin forward to plant a soft kiss on your neck. He exaggerated his movements as his hands fell limp to the bed and he shot you a small frown. Practically jumping off the bed, you scrambled around the floor to grab and throw back on your leggings and t-shirt, sending him a look only he would understand.

 

“You know that’s not how this works, Tom,” you reminded him, or was it yourself you were trying to remind of the rules? His brown eyes widened up at you for a brief passing moment, until he scattered his gaze to his hands in his lap. Clearing his throat, he refocused on you, struggling to place the right words to the tip of his tongue.

 

“But we’re still friends though, you know?” Tom jogged your memory, leaning forward across the bed, the sheets entangled around him fell to his lower hips and exposed his chest. You walked closer, propping your knees up on the foot of the bed. He tipped forward even more, his fingertips brushing across your hand; his touch lingered for a half a second until you remembered to jerk back your hand.

 

“Friends don’t stay the night either,” you whispered, a tightness built up in your chest and it made it hard to talk or look at him anymore. Tom didn’t move his hand, just let it rest awkwardly in front of him on top of the sheets as he fought to reason with you.

 

“Well, yeah but, I just don’t want you to… I don’t—nevermind,” Tom stuttered incoherently, making no sense but complete sense at the same time. You pretended to not know what he meant, wanting to hear him say it himself.

 

“You know you can talk to me, we are friends too,” you smiled down at him, his lips couldn’t help but flip back up at the sight of your contagious bit of happiness. He had to bite back his bottom lip otherwise he would’ve said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want to be just your friend.’ Tom gulped and clenched his jaw, sweeping the back of his hand across his forehead to wipe away beads of sweat.

 

“I just don’t want you to think I’m using you, cause it’s more than just… sex,” he chose his words carefully, peering up at you through a mess of curls that shielded his eyes from you. Tom hoped it was enough for you to understand the meaning behind his words.

 

“Yeah, I know that of course! Tommy, we’ve been best friends since we were six years old, and that means something to me,” you cooed, sitting back down on his lap, looping your arms loosely across his back. His head jerked up, his breath halted when he realized your faces were mere inches apart.

 

“I-it does?”

 

“Duh, stupid. This–this is perfect, right? We can be best friends and still do the fun stuff, with no risks you know?” you explained, fighting with yourself to add the last part. No risks, ha. Every time you stepped into his apartment you were taking a risk, shoving down your feelings to play make-believe. Tom turned his cheek away from you, resolving to physically hide his face from you to keep his emotions a secret. It’s funny because he’s one of the best actors but when it comes to his own emotions, it isn’t that easy for him to fake it.

 

“Oh, yeah, no risks…” Tom whimpered, the tension grew almost completely unbearable between you and him. Planting a quick goodbye kiss on his cheek, you said no more and rushed to leave him alone for the night.

 

Watching you leave, he wanted to pull you back into his arms and shake you, to tell you to stop pretending. To sleep next to him and stop turning something that was designed to be simple into something so complicated. But he knew it wouldn’t be fair, it wasn’t your fault he couldn’t obey one simple rule: don’t catch feelings.

 

You clicked the door shut and collapsed on the stairs to gather and put yourself back together. You didn’t know how many more of these nights you could take with Tom. Pretending was exhausting and just plain hurtful. Gripping onto the hand railing, you forced yourself to either stay seated or walk away. If you went back in there he’d know that you care more than you should, more than a friend.

 

Sometimes it seemed like Tom really did return your feelings, so apparent that you almost confessed. He always was trying to bend the rules as if he had caught feelings, but it wouldn’t make any sense. He was the one who suggested the agreement in the first place, and he wouldn’t break his own rules, right?

 

***

****

**_Coming over later right?_ **

 

No, you weren’t going to come over, but you couldn’t tell him that, just had to ignore it.

****

**_Aww I missed you :/_ **

 

God, why did he have to make it so difficult to shake him from your mind?

****

**_Tonight then?_ **

 

No, not tonight, not ever. Still, you wouldn’t pick up the phone to tell him that. He’d just have to figure it out on his own.

 

String after string of texts, they were unstoppable from him. But of course, Tom only cared if you weren’t in his bed. Nothing else mattered and it was stupid to think for even a fucking second he cared more than a friend. Being a friend isn’t even that hard, and now it felt like the change in your relationship had stripped away your friendship and replaced it with something you once wanted. Once, but not anymore.

****

**_Y/N are you okay? If you don’t want to do this anymore with me you can just call it._ **

****

**_Seriously idc_ **

****

**_I’m worried tho is everything alright? If you don’t answer I’m coming over_ **

 

The fact that he sunk to such low levels to even fake like he gave a shit about your feelings anymore was just a desperate move and hurt more than he probably realized. Yeah fucking right, he wasn’t going to come over, and if he did come over he would want to run out the door the second he found out why you hadn’t been answering in the first place.

 

Two vertical lines, it was really funny actually. Less is more in this case, you prayed more than anything that only one line would appear. But along with the two lines came choices and decisions that you didn’t want to have to make alone, but you didn’t want to face Tom’s reaction. It wasn’t what he signed up for, no one expects a baby out of a casual no strings attached friendship.

 

Three knocks sounded at the door and you could tell just from the pattern it had to be Tom. Panicking, you shoved the test in the deep pockets of your baggy sweatshirt and ran a few fingers through your hair that hadn’t been washed in days. He knocked again, louder and longer and you knew he wasn’t going to go away but you tried to make him anyway.

 

“I don’t want to talk to you, Tom!” you yelled, voice cracking from hiding in your apartment so long. The knocks turned into banging fists against the door, so determined you swore he was going to snap the damn thing in half.

 

“Fine, jesus christ,” you groaned, dragging yourself up to your feet to twist open the lock and pull open the door. Tom’s fist paused mid-air and he stumbled into you, his leg raised as if he were planning to kick open the door.

 

“What,” you spat, deadpan with no feeling, maybe you were actually getting good at this thing. Tom pushed in through the doorway, eyes scanning over the four walls and everything in between. He didn’t really know what he was looking for, maybe some broken glass or signs that you were distressed. Because then that would mean that you were ignoring him for a reason, not because you were simply done with him.

 

“What is going on with you?” Tom pressed, stepping so close you had to take a step back. His chin quivered, and he sucked in his lips to keep the tears from falling. He felt beyond frustrated and confused to your motives, he just wanted at the very least an explanation.

 

You shrugged your shoulders up and let them fall back down, keeping your eyes trained to his feet so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes. Tom ran his hands up and down your arms, eliciting a shiver from you. You didn’t move, didn’t wrap your arms around his neck even though you wanted to more than anything. Tom pouted, knowing he would have to do the talking, to peel back your layers to understand why you were acting this way.

 

He slipped his hands into your front pocket, his fingers brushing against something inside. Tom started to pull it out, but you acted quickly, forcefully shoving him back as you dashed away from him. His brows wrinkled up in confusion, making him even more curious as to what you were hiding.

 

“Get out!” you spat back at him, putting a chair in between you and him. He did the exact opposite, rushing forward to grip the wooden chair in between his fingers. Tom leaned forward but you ran backward as he tossed the chair to the side.

 

“Show me!” he grinned, obviously taking pleasure in how ridiculous you were acting. You shook your head back and forth, until the heel of your foot hit the corner of the couch, slowing you down. Tom took the chance and dived to you, ripping out the object from your pocket. His chest rose up and fell down faster than ever, his eyes scanned over the stick as he read it aloud, not comprehending what it was at first.

 

“Pregnant.”

 

You buried your face in your hands, a silence fell over the apartment. After a few more heartbeats, you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, your hand flew to your lips to cover it up. Tom’s fingers trembled so badly the test slipped from his grasp and clattered to the tile floor. You opened your hands covering your eyes to sneak a peek at him, his cheeks a pale, almost ghostly white.

 

“Okay, I get it, it’s not your problem and I know that. You don’t have to stay,” you breathed out, shakily lifting a finger to the door. Tom stood beside you, wrapping both hands around your pointed finger in his.

 

“You think this is a problem?” he repeated your words, in a different tone that suggested maybe it would be okay. You started to nod back up at him, but then you thought about it and wondered if it really was a problem. It was if you believed it was, and you didn’t want to think that way.

 

“I just… know that this isn’t what you want,” you stumbled a bit, sure he must have thought that too.

 

“And how do you know that?” Tom immediately responded, throwing you off-guard.

_“Because this isn’t a benefit.”_

 

Tom crept his hands up to your cheeks, tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes. They were full of sincerity, acceptance of what you had done together, and a part of you believed he actually wanted this.

 

“Darling, being with you is all the benefits I need,” Tom spoke softly, laced with confidence in what you had together.

 

“It is?”

 

Tom laughed in unison with you, a sense of deja vu passed over you and him. He couldn’t take it anymore, all the pretending that revolved around some stupid suggestion he made without realizing the consequences of it. His lips met yours, this time it wasn’t fake or an act, it was finally real.

 

“What are we going to do?” you laughed into his lips, feeling his smile pressed up against yours. His shoulders shook up and down, wrinkles building at the corners of his eyes.

 

“I have no fuckin’ clue,” he responded with complete honesty. You slid your hands up to the back of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, the only thing that felt right to do. He broke the kiss to offer up an idea, hoping you agreed.

 

“Can I just stay the night?” his breath hitched, remembering how only a few days ago you had shot down his proposal. You nodded, falling back on the couch, and Tom pulled a blanket over the top of you, lifting your legs to rest over his lap. He ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair, the other hand settled on your stomach. A smile slowly spread to his lips, and he leaned down to plant a kiss to your stomach. You kneaded your fingers between his, holding on tight to his hands. Tom opened his mouth to speak, sure of himself this time around.

 

“We got this,” he grinned, still not taking his hand off your stomach. You had to admit, it really did seem better from his point of view. You’d been friends with him forever, tried out the benefits, and realized you needed something more. And, maybe this baby was a sign.

 

This was your something more.


	2. Calling it (1)

Tom’s eyelids drooped, weighing heavy with exhaustion, the warmth and comfort from your head nuzzled in between his chest and the comforter drew out the stress from his body. You were the only one he felt a hundred percent comfortable with on days like this, no one he could trust more than his girl. 

 

The bed was crammed in the corner of his shared dorm room, barely big enough to fit one person, let alone two. The only way to make it work was by lying over the top of him, a system both of you had grown so accustomed to, the bed almost felt too big if you weren’t in it with Tom. His little corner was spiced up with movie and tv show posters, all the things that made his eyes sparkle with excitement and hopes to one day have his own face plastered on posters and hung up on another wistful college kid’s wall. But your absolute favorite thing was his bedsheets, so old but shameless, decorated in Spider-man comics. No one else knew Tom Holland like you did, but that was okay. You preferred it like that. 

 

Your bare feet rubbed up against his from underneath the thick pile of blankets, so many layers you felt like you were little kids again, hiding out in a makeshift fort built with couch cushions and random sheets flung over the top. His breathing slowed, and you couldn’t help but shift your gaze up to him and blow out a puff of air from beneath him. Tom jerked awake, eyes snapping open and scanning from side to side until he looked down to see you shyly smiling in his arms. His loose hold on you tightened as he pulled you up closer to him, breaking the space between your lips with a short and sweet wake-up kiss. 

 

Turning your head to the side, Tom took the chance to bury his face in your scalp, breathing in the sugary fresh scent as little flyways stuck to his lips and made him muffle his coughs. 

 

“Sorry I can pull it u-”

 

“No! I can do it,” Tom insisted, turning your cheek away with one finger. His hands ran through your strands, his fingers rubbing circles into the skin on your neck. You swear he’s doing it just to make you feel things cause thirty seconds later your hair is still hanging loose and not tied back in a bun. Remembering to check the time, you reached out for his side table for your phone, but he clamped onto your wrist with one hand, the other grabbing for your phone instead. 

 

“Tom, I have class tomorrow morning I can’t stay forever,” you sighed, shaking your wrist to break free and snatch the phone from his grasp. 

 

“You don’t need to stay forever, just stay tonight,” he cooed, fluttering his dark eyelashes that always ended up tricking you into saying yes. Shaking your head, you lunged with your free hand but he moved faster. Chucking it to the bed opposite him, Tom smirked, raising both eyebrows as if to test you. 

 

“Ow!” a muffled voice called out from across the room, sending a shockwave through you as your head arched up to catch a glimpse. Your palm flew to cover up your wide-open mouth, suppressing your laughs but Tom let all of them out for you.

 

“Haz, babe, we didn’t realize you were here!” you giggled, shoving Tom’s arms off of you playfully, but within a second he wrapped them around you like they had never left at all. Harrison’s cheeks flushed a blushy-pink, thankful you couldn’t see his expression from across the dark room. 

 

“You didn’t know he was here? I did,” Tom shrugged, his shoulders twitching up and falling back down carelessly. Right now, the only thing he cared about was you. 

 

“Can you guys just shut the fuck up and lemme get just a little bit of sleep for once? Please?” Haz grumbled from under his own personal fortress of pillows and fuzzy blankets. You trailed your hands up Tom’s chest, resting a finger over his lips to silence him. His warm honey eyes locked with yours, your hair a tangled mess blocking your vision. Tom read your thoughts, brushing away your hair to the side, not severing eye contact for even a second. 

 

You could feel each beat of his heart in your own chest, and nothing ever felt so complete. Tom was your other half and you’d be lost, no,  _ devastated _ , without him to fill the empty pieces of you that no one had before. What made the feeling even better was knowing he had a rough history with girls, never able or wanting to commit himself to anyone. But you always saw the good in people and stuck to your belief that maybe they can’t change; regardless, everyone needs that one person to help them realize they are capable of being loved and can give out love in return. Tom was your person. 

 

“I love you, Tommy,” you whispered, but your words rang out stronger than ever in his ears, repeating on a loop until he fully comprehended what you actually said. Tom forced his eyes to break apart from you, and you could sense the fear oozing off of him no matter how hard he tried to contain it.

 

“I---you’re great.”

 

Great... _ What? _

 

You gulped, this time also shifting your eyes to look anywhere but to him, too afraid at what you might find if you did. How the fuck could “you’re great” ever equate to a verb as strong as love? That’s because it doesn’t. 

 

Nodding and biting your lip so roughly you can taste smears of blood, you tried to settle back down on his chest as if everything were normal. As if you didn’t just tell Tom you loved him to not hear the same three words echo from his lips. Ear pressed up against his ribs poking out from his soft cotton t-shirt, his heartbeat sounded different. More erratic, like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, like he lied to you and you both were perfectly aware of this fact. You had to get out.

 

“I’ve got class tomorrow so I gotta-” you mumbled, cheeks still turned away from him. You lifted yourself off of him, chest tightening as his hands simply dropped to his sides. Tom always pulled you back into him and showered you with kisses, refusing to let you walk out the door, but not this time around. 

 

“Go. Same, I mean, I don’t have to go but you... Yeah,” Tom awkwardly sputtered out. There was no right thing to say after his unforgivable line running through your mind from a minute earlier. 

 

“Yup! So, bye,” you finished, feeling lower than ever and for the first time in a while,   _ incomplete. _

 

“Yep see you tomor-- I don’t know, later, I guess?” Tom cut off his words before he filled you with empty promises he didn’t intend on keeping. Back turned away from him, you breathed out, fingers shaking and hovering over the door knob. Rotating on your heels, you optimistically shot him a small smile, but his back lay towards you, his face trained on the wall so you wouldn’t have to see him squeeze his eyes shut to keep hidden the panic building in him. 

 

Harrison tugged the blankets closer to his skin, feeling the warmth from his breaths bounce back to his cheeks. He struggled to steady his breathing, to appear as if he hadn’t heard what he had and be impartial. It wasn’t his business and he knew that, but all he wanted to do was jump out of bed and shake Tom’s shoulders, to tell him he was making a horrible mistake. Haz’s arms stayed glued to the sheets, the fear of making the situation more complicated kept him right where he lay. 

 

The moment you shut the door you stumbled into the wall, hands still shaking in disbelief as your heart beat out-of-control. You tried to keep it casual, telling yourself it was only really an issue if you turned it into one. It’s all about the perception. Tom could just not be in the same place in the relationship as you, he needed more time and that was okay. Sure, you just told him you love him and he probably said the second worst thing, he didn’t say “thank you.”

 

Just because something could be worse didn’t make it hurt any less. 

 

***

 

Days dragged on, and you received a few miscellaneous texts from Tom, nothing more significant than a conversation with a stranger on the streets. A “gm”, “how was your day?” and maybe if you were lucky, a “night.” Growing desperate, your thumb scrolled up to previous messages from before you toppled over the weak foundation of your relationship with a single poke. What made you feel even worse was knowing that it was bound to happen, eventually you would have confessed and he would have pushed you away just as fast. 

 

Your thumb paused over a message, until your whole arm trembled so strongly you had to set down your phone onto your lap. 

 

_ I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N. You just make me so much better and it’s like idek I woke up and I’m finally happy. <3 _

 

You couldn’t count the tears that rolled down your cheeks, a few splattering over the screen, blurring the message as if to erase it from existence altogether. Holding your breath, sobs still managed to catch in your throat and spill out from your lips. How could Tom do this; say those things and mean them or at least pretend to mean them, only to block you out? That was your worst fear, the feeling of being someone’s everything to become irrelevant in a few fucked up days. That was really all it took, a few days of being apart to rip out the roots of everything you had grown after months with one another.  _ No… _

 

You refused to let this slip through your fingers, to give up and call it quits after the first sign of conflict. You’d never give up on someone this easily, especially not someone you loved as much as Tom. Determined, you picked back up your phone, selecting Harrison, Sam, and Harry’s contacts for a group chat. You’d have to make it impossible for Tom to simply brush you off, this surprise would patch up the weak spots and prove to him you were in this for real. Just a few stitches here and there, and it would practically fix itself. 

 

***

 

“You ready for this?” Harrison yanked the key out of the ignition, turning to face you in the passenger seat. Your fingers tapped against the windowsill, part of you not wanting to get out of the car but an even larger part of you couldn’t wait to put the pieces of you and Tom back together again. Haz lunged over the seat, planting a quick peck on your cheek for support, then he pushed up on the door handle for you to step out first. 

 

Your knuckles lightly rapped over the door to the Holland’s house, Nikki almost immediately inched open the door, seeing it was you and Haz she flung it open the rest of the way and wrapped her arms over you in a sweet hug. Harrison’s fingers lingered over your waist from behind, pushing you through the rest of his brothers to get inside. Tom’s family was every bit as important to you as him, another sign it was meant to be fixed. 

 

Standing amongst them in the kitchen, you could picture Christmases with Tom, messily baking cookies and getting into flour battles with each other. You wanted to sip hot chocolate with him on the porch in matching holiday socks with snowmen patterned over them, to stay up till midnight with him on New Year’s Eve. All alone in his old room, crammed into another bed not fit for two, with mistletoe hung from the ceiling, but you wouldn’t need an excuse to kiss him. 

 

A chime from your phone interrupted your thoughts, your eyes lit up when Tom’s name appeared on your home screen. You could sense everyone’s eyes eagerly watching you slide up the icon and answer the call. 

 

“Hey baby what’s up!” you cheerily ask, eyes scanning over the multiple pairs of eyes excitedly bearing into yours. 

 

“We-um need to talk,” Tom started to say, but you wanted to talk before he could.  

 

“Okay, but can I go first? You’re on your way home right?” you checked, hoping all the little details matched up perfectly with your surprise visit. 

 

“No, well yeah, but I need to talk to you first,” Tom continued to insist, a small pang of worry built up in your chest but you told yourself it was nothing. 

 

“Okay what is it?” you agreed, thinking you would have plenty of time to talk later. You locked eyes with Haz, who raised in eyebrow and spun his hands together in a circle, everyone wondering what was being said. 

 

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking about this for awhile and I just… I don’t think we mix well together. You want something that I just can’t give you. I can’t be there all the time, I’m not ready to say I love you so fast, and I don’t think we are in the same place,” Tom revealed, so fast it was as if he was rushing to spit the words out before he changed his mind. 

 

“Okay, hold on, that’s totally fine, we just need to give it more ti--”

 

“ _ No, _ I don’t want to do that. I can’t do this anymore with you. I’m really sorry and all, I know how much you care, but I just don’t feel the same way about you like I used too,” Tom cut you off and spoke over the top of you, not giving you a chance to make him think about what he was implying. 

 

“Tom, you can’t do this, not like this, not over the phone! This is something we can work through, just calm down and think about this,” your voice cracked down to the last few words, afraid this was really it. But part of you knew that Tom wouldn’t go through with it, he would never throw away what you had in a phone call, it wasn’t like him at all. 

 

“I  _ have _ thought this through, and I said I’m sorry but I’ve decided and this is it…” Tom trailed off, unfinished with his sentence but clearly finished with you. 

 

You settled in a stunned silence, this was really happening. There was nothing to say and even if you came up with the best combination of words it would never be enough for him. You would never be enough for him.

 

_ “I’m calling it.”  _

 

Before you could utter even a goodbye, a series of beeps filled your consciousness that indicated Tom hung up on you, not giving you even the time or courtesy to discuss it further.  The phone dropped from your fingers, a loud snap and you knew the glass screen would be shattered but nothing could be worse than the damage Tom did to your heart in just a two-minute phone call. The eyes once glued to you all scattered randomly across the room, too embarrassed for you to even look at you. 

 

Harrison was the only one to step forward, not afraid to catch and keep your eye, a moment passed between you two and just for a second; his ocean-blue eyes seemed to calm the sea of raging emotions thrashing around in your head. Breaking away from him you took a step back, not wanting to even pick up your phone to be reminded of the dreaded call. He extended a hand out to you, aware of how your knees shook uncontrollably and were the only thing keeping you from falling to the ground like a lovesick idiot in front of Tom’s family. 

  
  


You were an idiot, absolutely stupid to think, to think what? That you had changed him? Made him realize what it was like to be loved?  _ Fucking naive. _

 

Turning your back to them, your lifted your hands to cup your cheeks, shivering like you were drowning in ice-cold water, pale blue lips unable to even catch a breath of air. You felt a hand clasp your shoulder and squeeze, the bit of pressure was soothing and you wanted more. To be held tightly and never let go, and Harrison seemed to pick up on this. His strong arms wrapped around you from behind, holding onto your waist as the tears streamed down your cheeks and every other second your body broke out in a sob, like you couldn’t feel or control anything anymore. Everything happening was completely out of your hands, and the more you tried to make things work again, the more heartbreaking it felt when you failed over and over. 

 

“I can’t believe he would…” Harrison muttered, his breath hot against your ears and it was all too fast and too close. 

 

“Don’t.”

 

Prying Harrison’s fingers off of your hips, you shoved apart from him, running like your life depended on it out of the house that once made you feel at home, but now felt like a different world that no longer belonged to you. You could hear Harrison’s footsteps pounding against the pavement behind you, your name echoing through the air rushing past you. No idea where to go since Haz drove you himself, all you knew was that anywhere was better than there. Who knows when Tom would be back and you didn’t want to be there for that, didn’t want to ever see him again. 

 

_ Lies. _ You wanted to see him more than anything, but only if he was going to apologize and beg for your forgiveness, anything else would be too hurtful, not worth it. 

 

“Y/N, fuckin’ wait! Just stop!” Harrison called out, gaining ground on you but you didn’t really feel like stopping.  You’d given Tom love and he crumpled it up like a wasted piece of paper he no longer needed anymore and tossed it in the trash, not even the recycling bin, but the damn trash can. How could you just stop running and turn around, pathetically crawl back to his best friend for a ride back? What would you even do then, everywhere around the university reeked of Tom, of all the little things you did together that you would no longer have. You would have nothing. 

 

And that could only mean one thing: Tom really did call it. 


	3. Calling it (2)

Harrison snatched the edge of your jacket, a bit more forcefully than he intended, he pulled you back to where he had stopped running. You immediately fought against him, shoving into him with all the anger and frustration in you, not at him of course, but he was just the only person there to take it all without pushing you away. Your movements soon slowed down, breaking apart from Haz, you took a few backward steps until you turned away from him altogether.

 

“You can’t just walk away from this!” he shouted after you, but what did he want you to do? You weren’t going to go back, so the only place you could go was anywhere away from all signs of Tom, including his best friend and family, even if it wasn’t their fault.

_“Watch me!”_

 

Harrison kicked his feet into the dirt lining the side of the road, sending a flurry of dust into a little cloud above the ground. He pulled his fingers through the roots of his hair, tilting his head back in pure annoyance that he was left to try and mend what Tom had broken, like always. He broke everything from his phone to you, the girl everyone except Tom himself knew he was in love with.

 

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Haz murmured to himself, watching as you refused to turn back, your figure growing smaller and smaller into the distance. Sighing loudly even though no one was around to hear, Harrison spun around on his heels and begrudgingly headed back to the house, hoping Tom was there so he could give him a wake-up call he obviously couldn’t give to himself.

 

***

 

Tom rotated the door handle to the left, pushing it open with a wide smile, expecting to be greeted with the usual rounds of hugs and a kiss from his mom. His forehead crinkled up in confusion as he walked through the house to see no one, until he finally stepped into the kitchen. All eyes moved to stare blankly at him, not the warm welcome he thought he’d receive in the slightest.

 

“Hey everyone!” Tom tried to lighten the mood, hoping it would do the trick but no one spoke in return. He flipped his palms upward in shock, at this point catching on that something was clearly wrong. His heart dropped down in his chest when his eyes locked with Nikki’s, watching as her lips trembled and she rushed to wipe away tears from her eyes before they could even fall.

 

“Mom…” he whispered, horrified to see her, always strong and taking no bullshit from any of her sons, in a mess like this. But that was just the thing, she prided herself on the fact that she had raised four boys to be kind hearted and mindful of others feelings, but today Tom had proved her wrong. Harry stepped in front of Tom’s path, his typically soft brown eyes were stone cold and riddled with anger but more than that, a lack of understanding.

 

“Why did you do that to her? Over the phone? Seriously, Tom…” Harry muttered the last part under his breath, but it was perfectly clear in the dead-quiet room. Tom’s head spun as he took a step back, bracing the weight of his body with a hand against the countertop. How could they have known about that?  _You must have…_

 

“Shit,” he cursed, realizing you must have come to his place, his worries confirmed when his eyes landed on your phone resting in the middle of the kitchen floor. His fingers shivered as he bent down to pick it up, a breath hitched in his throat when he saw the cracked screen, underneath it a picture of Tom asleep on your lap set as the wallpaper. Jaw clenched, Harry rolled his eyes at Tom’s apparent hurt expression, when he didn’t deserve to feel hurt. Standing back up, Harrison moved in front of him next, trying to stay relatively calm at his best friend; he must have had his reasons no matter how stupid.

 

“Talk.”

 

Tom’s cheeks paled, flicking his eyes around the room, everyone expectantly raised their eyebrows for him to do as Harrison asked. Tom swept the tip of his tongue over his dry lips, inwardly doing it to buy more time to gather his thoughts.

 

“She was just, I don’t know, moving too fast. And I’m not ready, why is that a bad thing? Is it really my fault, you all here won’t even fucking speak to me, just cause I can’t move as fast as she can?” Tom spat, quickly growing defensive over his choices, and felt like it was him against the world in a kitchen full of people he called his family. He didn’t connect that they weren’t there to be angry, but because they needed him to see why what he had done was so completely stupid.

 

An audible sigh left everyone’s mouths at the same time and rang throughout the four walls, boxing Tom further into the corner with their common reaction. Biting down on his lip, he struggled to keep from crying, and dropped his head down only to be met with your lock screen again, reminding him of the good in his life he had shoved aside out of fear. Starting to get it, he nodded at Harrison to say what he had to say, always the right thing at the right time, one of the many joys of having a smarter best friend.

 

“It’s a bad thing cause you broke up with her in a fucking phone call when she sat in the car with me for hours to come here and surprise you! And there’s no such thing as moving ‘too fast’; god, you either like her or you don’t, and if you do then show it and stop convincing yourself it’s not okay to admit you care,” Harrison’s voice echoed through Tom’s ears, growing louder and louder until his fingers were jabbing into Tom’s chest and he was practically shouting. Tom lowered his gaze, straining his neck so he wouldn’t have to judge his family’s reactions.

 

“I… I do like her, but… I’m scared to get close and have it all go to shit. And I don’t know, I thought I’d feel better after that call, but now I just wish I never pressed that end call button at all,” Tom’s tone cracked, his words felt heavy from hanging at the back of his tongue for all this time, never spoken until now. He felt a sense of relief but it was overshadowed by regret.

 

Harrison’s hand squeezed Tom’s shoulder, like he was transferring some of his strength and Tom soaked it all in like it was his own to keep and to use. He lifted his head back up, and for once let himself show his vulnerability, a tear slid down his cheek and dropped at the base of his feet. Tom knew what he had to do, but it wasn’t an obligation, it was a desperate last cry for help, a plead for you to come back that he hoped you would answer.

 

“I gotta go–” Tom muttered, turning his back as he flew out the door, slipping your phone safely in his pocket, not sure why since now it seemed to match the brokenness of his.

 

“Tom, wait!” Harrison called back after him, and he spun around for half a second, eyes wildly flashing at Haz to quickly say whatever he needed to say so he could get to you faster.

 

“Let me drive you, dumbass, so you’ll get there faster!”

 

***

 

You ascended the steps onto the bus, eyes settling on and choosing a window seat closest to the door. That way you could be the first one off the second you got back to your dorm, away from this place that reeked of Tom. Sitting down, you held your arms tight to your chest, eyes glued to the door, praying for it to close so you could breathe out a sigh of relief that you were leaving this place.

 

Just as they started to close, you heard a high-pitched yell and a hand came in between the doors to stop them from shutting. Rolling your eyes, you flicked your focus outside the window, when you noticed a familiar car. Squinting, you could see Harrison in the driver’s seat, who sent you a little wave before driving away. You felt someone’s eyes on you, a body slid into the seat beside you, but you couldn’t look. What if it wasn’t him? But maybe worse, what if it _was_?

 

Shakily, your breaths became weaker as you lifted your chin, sucking in a gasp as the familiar curly-brown haired boy you once called yours shot you a small, pitiful smile. Tom wanted to touch you, even just a little, but he was afraid he’d do even more damage. Quickly looking away, your fingers drummed against the tops of your thighs in an unsteady pattern. It wasn’t cold but that didn’t stop your teeth from chattering and goosebumps from forming at the base of your neck. For some reason, the nervous feeling reminded you of the day that you first met Tom.

_You rose to your feet to pick up the coffee when your order was called out to the bustling shop, but stopped cold in your tracks when you watched someone who was not you wrap their hands around the cup and start to walk out the door. Not thinking, you lunged, grabbing at his sleeve to stop the thief from getting away with it. All the anger that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach ceased when you were met with a lost expression from probably, no certainly, the most gorgeous guy you’d ever laid eyes on up until that point._

_Your eyes traced over all the little heart-melting details to him, the way his light-pink lips parted in confusion, how one of his eyebrows seemed to point up to the sky more than the other, and his slightly offset nose that you assumed must have been broken at least twice. Forgetting why you even needed to talk to him in the first place, you nervously shifted your stare to the cup in his hands. You lifted a shaky finger to point to the side of the cup, and his eyes followed your finger to read what you were pointing at, only to see the handwritten name “Y/N” scrawled over it in black sharpie._

_“I’m so sorry, this is yours isn’t it?”_

_Blushing, all you could do was bob your head up and down like a little girl, racking your brain for what a normal person would say in this situation._

_“Uh, you can just like–keep it, it’s fine,” you stuttered, raising up your hands like you were surrendering the coffee to him. To spare yourself more awkward embarrassment, you shuffled your feet in the direction of the door, empty handed. It was his turn to grab at your sleeve, pulling you back into the unfinished conversation before you could leave him so fast._

_“No, take this one, and to make up for it how ‘bout I get you another sometime?” he smoothly cast you back under his spell, flashing you a brilliant and bold smile that you didn’t think anyone could say no to. Nodding back, you bit back the smile that threatened to captivate your entire face, and instead stuck out your hand for him to shake._

_“I’m Y/N, but you probably already knew that from the cup…” you spoke, regretting your words as soon as they fled your lips. He cracked another smile and brushed it aside, stepping forward to slip his hand in yours, sending chills up your forearm._

_“Tom.”_

 

Back on the bus, a silence fell over you and Tom, until he pushed away his fear to break it.

 

“I’m sorry…”

 

Bursting into tears, you couldn’t hold it back anymore, and for some reason it felt so good to be able to cry next to him, not on your own like you planned to do the whole ride back. But for him, he absolutely hated it, seeing in action how he broke your heart, what a shitty thing he did to you. Tom didn’t think he could ever forgive himself, especially if you didn’t forgive him.

 

His chin trembled uncontrollably, finally he broke the space as well with his hands cradling your head that fell face forward into him. Tom pressed his forehead against yours, feeling the heat rise off your skin and blend into his. He lifted a finger and smoothed it over the surface of your lips shaking from his touch.

 

“God, I’m so so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, princess, please forgive me,  _please_ ,” he repeated over and over, not caring if he sounded pathetic. At that point he’d do anything just to get his girl back in his arms, in his tiny, tiny bed so he could hold you and never let you go, even if you had to go to class his arms would only wrap around you tighter than before.

 

You still don’t respond and his pleads slowly fade out, and so do your cries, moving to the sniffling after-stage. Tom lifted his soft, cotton sleeve to wipe away a tear that had found its way down to the tip of your nose. The only word that you could speak without falling back into another fit of sobs was a fragile “Why?”

 

“Cause I was a fucking idiot, such a dumbass and– and I was a coward. I was scared and I dunno maybe I thought that if we ended things now, before I admitted that I love you, then it would make things easier. But that’s so stupid cause now we’re both hurting and we don’t need to be. So please, please if you can, or if you even want to, could you forgive me?” Tom gushed out, hoping it was enough, hoping he was enough.

 

“You… you love me?”

 

You were met with his infamous smile, it appeared almost exhausted, tired of holding everything he really felt and really wanted to say back from you.

 

“Fuck– yes, god yes, I love you so much, please believe me. I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me but please..” he didn’t let up, revealing what he felt for you was like coming up for air.

 

You know you should be mad, but at the end of the day, you’d like to believe that the break-up needed to happen in order for you to move forward. That, maybe it got the worst part over with and now you could keep going. That you had changed him; people can change and you weren’t naive and you weren’t stupid for not giving up. It was brave and bold, but so was putting your heart on the line that night in his bed with his silly Spiderman sheets. Now that he was reciprocating that feeling by finally being brave himself, you just wanted him back.

 

“O-okay, just– if you ever break up with me again, can you not do it in a two-minute phone call,” you shyly meet his eyes, smiling as his face drops because he doesn’t know if he should smile or not but he does anyway.

_“I’m never breaking up with you so that’s not an issue.”_

 

You looked down to see your hands had found themselves wrapped up in each other, with neither of you consciously aware that it had happened. You were so in sync with him that it wasn’t even a surprise. Jerking your head back up as the bus rolled to a stop and prepared to open its doors, you nudged his legs with your knee.

 

“We should go back home,” you can’t help but grin. Tom smiles back, because of the way you say home; he wants to make it your home just as much as it’s his. Jumping out of the bus seat, Tom dragged you up to stand with his fingers intertwined in yours. Letting go of your hand, you opened your mouth to protest but it turned into a squeal as he dug his fingers into your waist and picked you up, flinging you over the top of his shoulder as he descended the couple steps.

 

Pounding your fists lightly into his back, he conceded and set you back down smoothly to the pavement. It was strange and bittersweet, but so perfect, that everything seemed to just fall back into place like you were stronger than ever. Ruffling your hands through his hair to mess it up, he remembered your phone in his pocket and slipped it out to place it back in your hands where it belonged.

 

“We should call Harrison to pick us up,” he muttered, as your eyes narrowed at the cracked screen but lightened up at your favorite picture behind it. In that moment you promised yourself you’d never settle on another lock screen, and looked back up at your boyfriend to shake your head and smile at his suggestion.

 

“We can just walk back,” you teased, picking back up his hand as you tugged him along with you down the sidewalk. His lips bent down in a pout, shaking his phone in his hands to remind you of the car that could take you back much faster. Clicking your tongue, you snatched his phone from his hands and slipped it in your back pocket.

 

“You probably don’t need to be making any more phone calls, Tommy.”


	4. Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by "dress" by Taylor Swift  
> ***SMUT WARNING***

_**Our secret moments, in a crowded room, they’ve got no idea about me and you.** _

Tom twirled his almost empty glass around in his grasp, already bored with the party. He sighed in disappointment when he arrived and she wasn’t there. He started to consider calling it a night and leaving early, when the door across the room snapped open and his jaw fell to the floor at the sight of her. A tight black dress hugged her body, her hair fell loosely down her back. Tom couldn’t take his eyes off her even if had wanted to; her friends soon gathered around her and showered her in the compliments she deserved.

  
She struggled to avoid his obvious and deliberate gaze; she knew he wanted her to come to him and that's not how she wanted to play. It took everything in her not to grab his hand and drag him away from the party, but she wanted to see how long he could last. She knew him in and out, what he craved and what he needed, and she intended to use all of it against him.

  
Her heels clicked across the floor, her hips swaying a little dramatically, but not too noticeable, except to Tom. He soaked it all up, and smirked at the game she was playing. He vowed to not fall in deep and wait for her to come crawling to him, frustrated at his stubbornness. She slowly poured a freshly opened bottle of red wine into a tall glass, and when she finished she nonchalantly licked a dribble of the liquid that had dripped off to the side. She lifted the wine to her lips and tipped her head back, eyes fluttering closed.

  
His eyes were trained to her and only her, unaware of anything else happening in the room. He felt himself growing antsy and his grip on his glass tightened, so hard he thought it would shatter. She was not playing fair.

 

**_All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation, my hands are shaking from holding back from you._ **

 

Her eyes finally met his, but it did more harm than good. She looked at him with those wide, innocent, pleading eyes and he almost said screw it and ran to her. Still looking at him, she swept all of her luscious hair to one side, exposing the smooth skin on her neck he should be raining delicate kisses on in that moment. Noticing that he still wasn’t budging, she did the unexpected.

  
“Oops!” she exclaimed as she accidentally tilted the glass backwards, spilling alcohol all over her chest which was now drenched. Tom’s jaw snapped shut and his face turned pale, finally he looked away from her. He couldn’t do this all night, enough was enough.

  
He marched over to where she was standing and glided his tender fingertips to graze her waist.

  
“You made quite a mess there, love,” he murmured into her ear as his lips brushed past her skin, which was quickly heating up. Just from his proximity to her body, she could already feel the wetness pool in between her legs, and she shifted uncomfortably away from his warmth. He seemed to realize the effect he had on her, and he slipped his hand down from her waist, resting it slightly lower.

  
“Maybe you could help me?” she dared back at him, standing her ground. He smirked once again and nodded, knowing exactly what she wanted from him.

 

_**Inescapable, I’m not even gonna try…** _

  
Within not even a few minutes, he pulled her aggressively into her apartment, finally alone together. He slammed the door shut and pressed her up against it, holding her in place with both hands gripping her waist.

  
“Knew you’d cave in,” he teased, feeling like a proud winner. She shoved him off and spun him around so that she was the one pressing him into the door.

  
“Actually, the way I remember it, you walked up to me,” she sneered in reply, breath hot against his skin. He rolled his eyes and lifted her body up and easily tossed her over his shoulder and carried her to his bedroom. She wasn’t ready to give up quite yet, though.

  
Tom threw her onto his mattress, but she hopped right back up and grabbed a hold of his collar with two hands. She fell back, pulling him down with her. He indulged in every thought he tried to push away just a few minutes earlier. His lips violently sucked the creamy skin on her neck, not wasting precious time coming up for air. He gradually made his way to the damp skin on her chest. Annoyed at the dress in his way, he tugged her upwards and his hands found her zipper, not hesitating to yank it down.

  
“It’s okay, I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” she whispered seductively, his breath hitched at her dirty plan. He pulled the dress off over her shoulders as she ripped open the buttons on his shirt. Tom whipped off the rest by himself and admired her beneath him for a moment, before he remembered he hadn’t even started yet.

  
His lips traced her breasts and his hand slipped down underneath her panties, smiling at how wet she was for him already. Her eyes squinted in a glare, reading his arrogant thoughts. His fingers explored her wetness; he immediately found the spot that made her crumble into his touch. He exploited her with his gentle strokes and watched with pride as her head involuntarily tipped backwards, slowly getting weaker because of him.

  
He lifted her chin up, “I want you to watch me make you fall apart, darling.” She found herself eagerly nodding at his command; normally she wouldn’t let him tell her what to do but now it’s all she wanted to hear. She gave his head a slight push down to her core, ignoring another one of his cocky smirks.

  
He swept kisses down her abdomen, swerving to plant more kisses on her inner thighs, waiting for her to beg.

  
“You want me here, darling?” he questioned, his words laced with conceit.

  
“Tom, I swear to god…” was all she could say in reply.

  
He took that as a good enough response, and ripped the soft fabric with his teeth, expecting a sly remark, but she didn’t care at that point.

  
He ran his tongue up and down her slick folds, straining to keep her legs from closing. Her head slipped back again, and Tom removed his lips from in between her thighs as a reminder of his previous demand. She let out a irritated groan and met his gaze to get him going again. He winked with his shiny, confident coffee-colored eyes and returned his lips to her moist skin. He worked wonders on her, swirling his incredibly light tongue over her clit, as she let out a series of soft whimpers all for him. He increased his pace, sliding two fingers into her, not planning on stopping anytime soon. Her hips bucked into him, encouraging him to go even faster, if that was possible. His strong hands pressed her thighs back down into the bed. She struggled to keep her eyes on him, wanting even more to throw her head back, but afraid of the consequences of that action.

  
“Tom, please…” she begged, desperate for more than he was giving her. His tongue continued to lap rapidly back and forth, and he removed his hands to slide off his pants and unwrap the skilfully placed condom in his pocket.

  
Much to her dislike, he paused to position himself to enter her like she wanted.

  
“Tell me what you want, princess.”

  
“You, Tommy, please, I need you inside of me,” she begged, still writhing under him from the loss of his touch. He wasted no time and inched his throbbing length inside her body, both of them breathed out at the close feeling.

  
He began fucking her at a slow pace, but her fingernails squeezed into his biceps and he took that as a signal to speed up. She felt her body becoming limp and fought the want to cave in and let herself go this quickly.

  
Tom tossed one of her legs over his broad shoulder to gain even more access to her tight pussy, moving in as deep as she would let him. Her hands found their way to his bare back, and she raked her nails across his shoulder blades, trying to find something, anything to grab onto.

  
“Fuck- Tom, I, please I need more,” she screamed, and he continued to work himself deeper into her dripping entrance, every cry from her lips coaxing him to give her everything he could. He gasped at the tension building up inside of him, knowing she must be close too.

  
“Almost there, love, wait for me,” he demanded, and she desperately tried to hold back her climax, but she was teetering on the edge and needed to release.

  
“Tom- I can’t--” she struggled to speak, scratching more marks into the sore skin of his back.

  
“Come for me, darling, let it all go. All over me,” he thrusted deeper than she ever thought he could and she followed his orders, glad to finally reach the release she craved since the start. She screamed his name over and over and threw her head violently backwards, hands gripping his shoulders. Tom soon followed, groaning as he finished inside of her, breathless. They rode out their highs, skin dripping in sweat up against each other intimately. He collapsed onto her, head buried in her bare chest, as she caught her breath, running her hands through his tousled brunette waves.

  
The feeling lasted forever, the pure bliss and contentment they got from each others presence. She held him tight to her body, afraid for the inevitable: his swift departure. After more minutes passed by, she nudged him, confused as to why he hadn’t booked it out of there already.

  
“Yeah, love?” he seemed just as confused as she was.

  
“Oh- I just thought you usually leave at this point…” she bit her lip and looked dejectedly to the opposite side of the room. He pulled himself up off her chest, and lifted her to sit up with him. He cupped her chin compassionately, and for the first time, pressed a light, sweet, sensitive kiss to her lips. Everything with them was always hot and heavy, never a second to spend caring.

  
“Actually, I thought I’d stay here for the night, if that’s alright with you,” he shyly suggested, different from the Tom she had grown to know, or more like thought she knew.

  
“Alright? No, it’s perfect,” she clarified, much to his relief. He grinned, no pride, just genuine happiness, and leaned back into the bed. She snuggled into his chest and he slung his arm around her, already planning on how he would treat her like the queen she was in the morning.

 

**_And I woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side..._ **


	5. sprained wrist (headcanon)

You sprained your wrist and Tom is very concerned:

  * “Dammit” you clutch your wrist in pain, kneeling on the floor
  * Tom overhears from the other room
  * “Princess, are you good?”
  * He sees you holding your wrist, sitting on the floor, and he rushes over to join you
  * Tom lightly brushes away your other hand and holds your sprained wrist in his
  * He lifts up your chin so that you are looking deep into his eyes
  * Without breaking eye contact, he lowers his lips to your skin and heat travels up your arm from the spot his lips grazed over
  * It feels like his touch is magic; it takes away the pain
  * Tears run down your face because this boy is just too perfect
  * Tom worries even more seeing you cry
  * He runs to grab a bandage to wrap it with and almost trips over his feet
  * He holds your arm like he’s afraid he’ll hurt it even more
  * Slowwwwly af he wraps the bandage around your wrist and when he’s finished he raises your arm up and proudly admires his work with a smirk on his face
  * He notices you glaring at him and quickly goes back to being over-concerned
  * Tom insists that you rest but he won’t even let you walk on your own
  * He picks you up off the floor and carries you in his arms to your shared bed and carefully lays you down like you’re made of glass
  * “Tommy I can walk, it’s my wrist, not my legs”
  * “Hush darling, I’m here for you”
  * You cuddle in bed watching Civil War together
  * He demands that he feeds you popcorn because he doesn’t want you to have to move your wrist
  * Like seriously this soft boi put your hand on his chest so he can keep an eye on it and make sure you don’t even lift a finger
  * When it gets to the Peter Parker scenes, you hear him involuntarily murmuring the lines
  * He tries hard to hide his smile from you, and his eyes are locked on the screen
  * You see your opportunity
  * You begin to raise your sprained wrist off of his chiseled chest to reach for a popcorn kernel
  * His eyes never leaving the screen-
  * “Babygirl, don’t even think about it”




	6. I don't share (harrison osterfield)

You fiddled with the elegantly folded napkin, already beyond bored only fifteen minutes into your third date this week. It was starting to seem like another failure as you zoned out in the middle of his excessively long story. You had even stopped trying to pretend like you were interested in listening to him several minutes ago. Thankfully, the sound of your phone ringing abruptly cut him off, and you sighed in relief.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Heyyy, Y/N! Whatcha doing, love?” Harrison’s familiar voice filled your ears; this time his words slurring.

 

“Actually, Haz, I’m kind of--”

 

“Not important! I, um, need you to bail me out…” he cut her off, offering little explanation into his urgent situation.

 

“What? Harrison Osterfield what the hell did you do now?” you tried to appear to sound incensed, but in all honesty, you were glad he was giving you an excuse to leave the date.

 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out... Now, drop whatever, probably, useless plans you had, and come find me,” he commanded, and before you could say another word, he hung up the phone. You rolled your eyes at his assumption that you didn’t have anything better to do, even though it was accurate at the moment. You murmured that you had to leave. You left your date stunned and alone at the restaurant secretly thrilled at the adventure awaiting you.

 

* * *

 

  
You got to the police station, and a cop walked you back to the temporary cell he was being held in; your heart beat anxiously, afraid yet curious to see what had happened to your best friend.

 

Harrison was waiting for you with his body pressed up tight to the metal bars. He whistled at the sight of you, and his ocean-blue eyes lit up with pleasure.

 

“You look fucking hot,” he bluntly stated, sending electricity through your body. He had never complimented your looks in that way before leading you to the conclusion that he was drunk and not thinking clearly.

 

“Haz you’re drunk as fuck; what the hell did you do?” you deflected his previous comment, trudging towards him to get the truth out of him at last. He gave you his classic smirk obviously enjoying the attention he was receiving from you.

 

“Hmm, well you got the drunk part right. Did you know that there’s a thing called drunk and disorderly? And that you can get arrested for it? Cause I didn’t,” he finally explained, and you stifled a laugh. He was unbelievable.

 

“So, enough questions about me; why are you all dressed up?” he pressed for more information from you.

 

“Well, genius, your little cry for help interrupted me in the middle of my date which I left, by the way, to bail your drunk ass out of here,” you sarcastically returned. Harrison’s face fell, and he broke eye contact with you.

 

“Oh.”

 

You didn’t get why he cared, but at that point, you just wanted to make sure he got home safely. So, you whistled to the guards to open the gate. He slung an arm around your shoulders; the smell of alcohol was ripe on his clothes.

 

As you walked out of the station towards your car, his body slumped onto yours like he was putting no effort whatsoever to keep moving. You hauled him into the car, and he still avoided eye contact or speaking with you. The ride to his place was silent, and you just assumed that he was drowsy from the drinking.

 

When you reached his flat, he fumbled with his keys and dropped them to the floor outside his door. He began to reach down to pick them up, but you did it for him. If he had fallen down, you didn’t think you’d be able to carry him in on your own.

 

As you bent forward to retrieve the keys, you felt his hand creep down to rest on your ass. You snapped up and slapped his hand away.

 

“Haz!” you blushed at his lack of boundaries.

 

“It wasn’t me!” he snickered, with a smug smile plastered on his face. You pushed open the door, and he stumbled in.

 

“Oh, really, then who did it?” you questioned playfully.

 

“Drunk Harrison, the real Haz wouldn’t do that,” he concluded, as he fell backwards onto his couch dramatically extending his hands out for you to join him on his lap. You took a seat beside him instead and slung your legs over the top of him.

 

“So, what else would the real Haz not do that drunk Haz would?” you tried to milk answers out of him feeling a twinge of guilt that you were manipulating him in his intoxicated state.

 

“He wouldn’t tell you the secret!” he whispered in a hushed tone as his fingers intertwined with yours.

 

“The secret?” you peaked interest at this; he seemed to smile with just his flirty gaze.

 

“Mhmm… I’ll tell you if you promise you won’t tell the real Harrison that I told you,” he bargained.

 

“Deal,” you pretended to consider it for a second.

 

“He’s been wanting to do this for a while...”

 

“Do wha--”

 

He broke the small space between you two with his lips. His hands trembled slightly as they trailed down to grab hold of your waist. You were so shocked at first you didn’t react, and he paused at this. Then you moved to deepen the kiss and swept your fingers through his tangled, dirty blonde waves. He adjusted his body so that you leaned back into the cushions as your legs wrapped around him. His chest was pressed so tight to yours each heartbeat sent tingles down your spine. It was like you were perfectly in sync with one another; as his chest rose, yours retreated back for his to fill the gap.

 

You didn’t know how, but then it seemed every laugh and every minute you previously shared as friends had led up this moment of understanding. No words needed to be spoken because your actions explained your thoughts impeccably.

 

Harrison withdrew himself a few inches away from you to take a breath of air and clarify something that had been getting to his head.

 

“No more going on dates, okay?” he breathlessly spilled his concerns, acting like it was no big deal. You raised an eyebrow expecting him to give more of a reasoning than that. He exhaled and locked his eyes intently with yours.

 

“Drunk Haz and real Haz have one thing in common: they don’t like to share.”


	7. Travelin' Soldier

 

Tom slid into a cafe booth, letting his head fall back and bang against the mahogany-colored wooden backrest. The army green fabric of his uniform clung to his skin, showcasing his tired muscles from endless weeks of military training. Time seemed to fly by too fast, he had turned eighteen only two days earlier, and now he was a day away from getting deployed. His fingers rapped anxiously against the faded, splintered tabletop as the fears crept back into his consciousness.

 

He scanned the almost empty cafe, all alone except for a young couple, probably his same age, slurping a sweet strawberry milkshake together through two red-and-white striped plastic straws. They probably had weeks, months, maybe even years to go on more sentimental dates without having to worry about the very real possibility of getting blown to bits in their sleep. Tom couldn’t help but stare as they interlocked their fingers across the table with each other, smiling like they never wanted to part.

 

“Excuse me, sir, what would you like?” a soft spoken voice interrupted his thoughts, and he snapped his head up to look in her direction. She had a pretty red bow tied into her ponytail, drawing his attention if it weren’t for her twinkling eyes and the timid way she held her paper and pen in her hands. He lost track of time and almost forget to answer completely, feeling incredibly shy and nervous to be so close to a girl.

 

“Just a coffee, please, two creams and two sugars,” Tom murmured, and sent her a bashful smile. His heart flipped over in his chest when she returned the gesture, and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before skipping behind the counter to pour the coffee. In less then a minute she cheerfully set the steaming mug in front of him, a twinge of pity running through her when she realized he sat all by himself. She pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and leaned against the edge of the table with her hands grasping the sides. A silent pause filled the space between them, before Tom gathered the courage to speak up.

 

“Would you mind sitting down and talking to me? I’m… feeling a little low,” he confessed, nervous energy making his fingers shake from his honesty to her. She flashed him another wide grin, not hesitating before taking a seat beside him, grateful she could hopefully brighten up his day a little. Their thighs brushed against each other underneath the table, his leg twitching away in response. She tried to make him feel more comfortable, carefully placing her hand on top of his shaking one. He breathed out a deep breath and slowly turned his head to meet her eyes.

 

“I know a place where we can go, and I’m off soon if you want to talk,” she suggested, Tom’s heart skipping a beat at the thought of being truly alone with her. He nodded sheepishly, and followed her with his eyes as she hopped out of the booth to finish up a few things. He gulped down the rest of his coffee, probably not helping with his nerves.

 

Soon enough, she looked down at him adoringly, offering a hand to him, and his breath halted from the electricity her contact sent up his arm and to the tips of his fingers and toes. She pulled him up with her, leading the way to the nearby pier she usually stopped by after work every night.

 

Gazing out at the rolling waves steadily crashing to the shore, she still hadn’t let go of his hand, and for once Tom felt appreciated, and almost… complete. Her eyes flicked up and down at his army uniform, staying quiet on the tension that seemed to build around the sore subject. He finally opened up to her, emptying out the stresses weighing heavy on his heart.

 

“I’m leaving tomorrow… Vietnam. I’ve know that I have to go, and I guess I’m okay with it, I just wish I had someone praying I come back alright,” he revealed, her eyes deepening with concern. Even though she didn’t know him, she felt obligated to do anything she could to make him feel safe, to make him feel loved. Her grasp tightened around his palm, sending a soothing wave of relief through him.

 

“I’m sorry,” she breathed out, not knowing the right words to say, but her presence was enough for Tom.

 

“I bet you got a boyfriend, but I don’t care. I got no one to send a letter to… would you mind if I sent one back to you?” he asked, a new surge of confidence allowing him to be bold with her. Not expecting his question, her limbs froze up and no words slipped out of her gaping mouth. Tom turned away, not able to hold in a single teardrop that cascaded slowly down his cheek, immediately wiping it away with his uniform sleeve. Soldiers don’t cry.

 

She glided closer to him on the bench, this time he allowed her thigh to rest on his as an unstoppable tide of tears fell from his pretty, innocent brown eyes. His shoulders shook up and down, the cries taking over his entire body, little desperate gasps for oxygen escaping his pink lips. She threw her arms over him, embracing him with all the warmth she could possibly bring to him. Maybe if she hugged him close enough she could cast a good luck charm on him, she could keep him safe no matter where he was. She cradled his trembling chin in her soft palms, shifting him so that he stared straight into her eyes.

 

“Honey, you can send me back a thousand letters,” she accented, receiving a shaky nod from the adorable curly haired soldier. Wrapping her arms over him again, they sat like that for hours, watching the sun descend into the water in a brilliant show of pink and orange. He eventually checked his watch, reluctantly telling her he had to leave, breaking the cherished moment between them.

 

He stood up with her, leaning in to press a kindhearted kiss to her cheek before he turned to leave. After he took a few steps away, she ran up to him and gripped onto his wrist.

 

“I don’t know your name!” she panicked, needing to know the identity of this mystery man who had stolen her heart with the setting of the sun over the pier.

 

“Tom, Tom Holland, and you?” he disclosed, excited to place a name to the girl with the red bow in her hair who he could now send heartfelt letters to. She slipped her hands to the back of his neck, narrowing the space between their chests.

 

“Y/N. Be–be safe, okay? Promise me?” she wistfully begged, needing to hear him ease her worries aloud.

 

“Okay– I promise, Y/N,” he emphasized her name, sending chills down her back. He pulled her in for one last hug, breathing in the lingering smell of coffee in her hair, trying to remember what she felt like in his arms so she could be with him in the most dangerous of times and places.

 

Tom turned his back, slowly releasing his hold on her hand as he walked away, feeling content, like he could really leave. Like everything was going to be okay as long as she read his letters. And maybe, when he got back he could surprise her in the cafe, striding in a year later in the same army green uniform. Maybe he had found his girl he could share strawberry milkshakes with, all he had to do was think of her and he’d be alright.

 

* * *

 

Y/N tore open the letter with no restraint, always the highlight of her weeks. She had a special box under her bed where she stashed each and every letter, rereading all of them before she closed her eyes at night. A letter was refreshing, it was reassuring. It meant that he was still alive and breathing, that Tom was keeping his promise. Her eyes skimmed over the letter, paying extra attention to the last lines of his letter as her heart sunk in her chest in sorrow.

 

_“When it’s getting kinda rough over here,_

_I think of that day sitting down at the pier._

_And I close my eyes and see your pretty smile._

_Don’t worry but I won’t be able to write for awhile.”_

 

How could she not worry? It had almost been a year of writing a steady stream of letters back and forth, something she couldn’t bear to part with. It was like their little secret. She reminded herself that she only needed to wait one more month. One more month and Tom would be back in her arms, one more month and they could sit and watch every single sunset together at the pier.

 

* * *

 

Friday night rolled around, the salty smell of fresh popcorn and grinning faces, anticipated the much-needed distraction of a good old football game. Y/N brushed past bodies to find an empty spot in the bleachers to get a decent view. She needed any distraction she could get to pass the time until Tom came back to her.

 

Every head in the stands bowed to face their laps as the Lord’s prayer echoed off the lips of every onlooker, the sound resonating throughout the stadium, followed by the National Anthem. A brief pause occupied the announcer, until he said the unexpected.

 

“Folks would you bow your heads, for a list of local Vietnam dead.”

 

Her heart jumped inside her chest, beating absolutely out of control. She wanted to cover her ears and scream, like she did when she was just a little girl ‘lalala I’m not listening.’ But she had to listen, to breathe a sigh of relief after Tom’s name was not announced. Only then would she feel at rest, because she already knew he was okay. He had to be okay, he promised and Tom wouldn’t break a promise.

 

Name after name resounded over the eerily hushed crowd, each one sending a pang of depression to people’s hearts and souls, a reminder that the football game was insignificant compared to the soldiers dying in a faraway country for no justifiable reason. Seconds ticked by and no more names were called, people peeked up from their downward glances, wondering if they could return to dreamland and block out reality once again.

 

“Please stay silent for one more fallen soldier, folks: Thomas Stanley Holland.”

 

Another short moment passed, until the crowd returned to smiling and laughter, tossing kernels of popcorn greedily into their mouths, seemingly forgetting about the soldiers who had laid down their lives. Everyone forgot. Everyone except the girl with a red bow in her hair.

 

Shoving past the sickeningly happy people, she sprinted to the underside of the bleachers, collapsing to the slick pavement and scraping her bare knees. No. No, no,  _no!_  They made a mistake, Tom was still breathing, he was still breathing. He was thinking of her smile, he was counting down the minutes until he could see her again. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be.

 

_He promised._

**Waiting for the love of a travelin’ soldier, our love will never end…**

**Waiting for the soldier to come back again, never more to be alone when the letter said: a soldier’s coming home…**


	8. Let her go

**Staring at the ceiling in the dark, same old empty feeling in your heart. Love comes slow and it goes so fast; well you see her when you fall asleep, but never to touch and never to keep…  
**

Tom shifted restlessly to the side, extending an arm out in bed to where you used to lay, burrowed deep in his chest sleeping peacefully. He rubbed his eyes quickly with the tips of his fingers; he could have sworn, just for a second, you were back where you belonged. He let out a sigh, knowing he needed to stop chasing after past memories and return to reality. And that was that you were gone, and it was all his own fault.

Tom raised his wrist to his eyes, trying to make out the numbers with his blurred vision. His watch read 5:30 a.m, bringing a bittersweet smile to his face. He used to despise mornings with a passion. He’d grumble and constantly silence his alarm until the last possible minute, not able to function without at least two cups of coffee in his system. All that changed when you had moved in with Tom.

* * *

_“Tommy, wake uppp!” you called from the foot of the bed, lightly shaking him awake. Tom didn’t even flinch, immune to your movements by then. You chuckled and crawled further up next to him, nudging him off his side and on to his back. He let out a deep breath, and his hands found your pillow as he snatched it before you could, hiding his face from the sunlight that poured in from the open blinds._

_“Tom, it’s almost 6 o’clock!” you pressured him, your fingers moving to the corners of the soft, white pillow in an attempt to pry it off his face._

_“Exactly!” he murmured, his voice muffled as he spoke into the pillow, still refusing to budge. You swung your legs over him, sitting on top of his abdomen. You managed to sneak your head underneath the pillow, and you worked your way up from his neck to his lips, placing short but sweet kisses on his smooth skin. He loosened his grip on the pillow, and you took the opportunity to roughly rip it from his hands, along with the comforter. You pulled it off of him, dragging it to the floor as you skipped to the windows, opening up the blinds all the way. The light filled the room, to you it was the best part of the morning. It was a beautiful fresh start, and you were determined to make Tom see it that way too._

_He continued to whine as he rolled upright, his pretty chocolate colored curls an absolute mess on top of his head. You dashed over to him, your smile contagious as he tried to bite back a little smirk. You ran both hands through his hair, trying to style his waves into a more controlled chaotic look. His hands found your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You reached to the bedside table, bringing a mug of coffee to his lips as he let out a soft moan, the steaming liquid filling his soul. Tom couldn’t wait to wake up with you like this every day, for the rest of his life._

* * *

Tom headed into the kitchen, flicking on the coffee pot, something you and him used to compete to be the first to do. None of it felt real anymore to him. He’d grown so accustomed to every little thing you did, that without you even his morning routine brought indescribable pain. He reached to the top shelf to grab the coffee grounds, in the process he remembered why he kept them so high. Tom wasn’t very tall, but he was taller than you, and he made sure you never forgot it. He loved watching you stand on your tippy toes, jumping up and down, until you finally caved in and climbed on top of the counter, determined to grab it without help from him.

Tom breathed in the smell of fresh coffee, thankful for at least one constant in his life. When he selected a mug, his eyes fell on your favorite. You always searched for beauty in the dull, seemingly ugly objects. A long crack began near the top of the mug, ending close to the mustard yellow handle. It was such a hideous mug, that brought out the loveliness in you.

A roar of thunder broke his concentration, the sky growing dark as the rain picked up its cadence, pattering against the glass in a steady rhythm. On the windowsill was an opened champagne bottle, yet what existed inside of it was far from alcohol. The bottle was filled about a fourth full of water, feeding the flower stems that lead into once blooming, stunningly red-wine colored roses. Yet, now, as if to symbolize your relationship, the roses hunched over, rapidly losing their vibrant color. Tom reached out a finger to feel the petals, and one shriveled up at his touch, falling into his palm.

**You see her when you close your eyes, maybe one day you’ll understand why everything you touch surely dies.**

* * *

_A loud, consistent knocking echoed throughout the living room, and Tom hurried to his feet, pressing pause on the show he was binge-watching as a result of the thunderstorm that raged overhead. He flung open the door, face to face with you, and a confused grin spread across his lips. Before he could ask why you came, you pulled out a bouquet of flowers from behind your back, a wide smile encompassing your cheeks. Your hair was drenched, dripping onto your short sleeved dress. Tom shuddered just looking at you, as his protective instincts kicked in. He pulled you inside, ready to run to his room and force you into something much more warm and comfortable to wear._

_“Okay, so hear me out. I was thinking, and then I realized something. You always buy me flowers, cause that’s what boyfriends do, right? Well that’s sweet, but it made me really sad. I mean, you never get flowers in return! So I ran to the flower shop in the rain and had to deliver these roses to you myself as soon as I could,” you gushed, obviously beyond excited about your latest epiphany. Tom was used to your wild, spontaneous way of living by this point, and he wouldn’t have you any other way. You weren’t void of surprises yet, though._

_“Oh! I almost forgot! I also brought this bottle of champagne, and we’re gonna drink it and dance in the rain!” you blurted out, wasting no time to shove the roses into his grasp as you popped open the bottle. The bubbly liquid exploded all over Tom’s face, your laugh he adored filling the space between you. He threw the roses to the table, and picked you up with two hands wrapped around your waist. Tom tossed you over his shoulder as you took a swig from the bottle. He carried you out the door, not hesitating as the rain poured heavily from the darkened sky, drenching his dry clothes._

_You both laughed loud enough for the whole block to turn their heads and stare in awe, but none of that mattered. You were so in love with Tom, and he was infatuated with all of you. He twirled you in circles above his head, your arms outstretched like an angel, his angel. Tom brought you back to the ground so he could kiss your lips, slippery from the raindrops falling down your shivering cheeks. He pulled you in tighter, his body heat transferring over to you. Tom couldn’t believe he found someone he loved so deeply he’d dance in the rain with._

* * *

Tom was lost in his thoughts, smiling sadly at the memory. He had a million more where that one came from, each one haunting him as a reminder of his mistake. The words still reverberated in his mind, clear as if he had just spat them out.

* * *

_You slammed the plate against the kitchen sink, beyond furious at his constant shortness with you. He was not the same Tom he used to be, and it killed you to watch him fall more and more out of love with you every day. You were slowly losing the man you loved more than anyone, and the worst part was it was nothing either of you had done. There was not one big moment, but rather a series of bitter fights, insults tossed at each other heartlessly._

_“When did you get so mean? So heartless! We used to dance in the rain, Tom. We used to be in love…” the words slipped out from your lips, no holding them back. They needed to be said. Tom scoffed at your attempts to bring up the long, almost forgotten past._

_“What? I’m the one that has to bring us back down to earth, because your head is always in the clouds. You ignore reality!” he snapped, being brutally honest with you, which hurt worse than a physical stab to the heart._

_“No! You choose to ignore me! It’s… It’s like you don’t even love me anymore,” you breathed in quickly, turning away from Tom. You were terrified to see his reaction. You needed nothing less than an apology and a reaffirmation of his love for you, otherwise you were beyond repair._

_“Well, maybe I don’t…” Tom’s words cut into your heart, a small gasp escaped your lips. You swiveled back around, not hiding the evident tears streaming down your face. He should’ve seen your tears and ran into your arms, wiping them away on his sleeve. He should’ve wrapped you up and let out a series of apologies, of begs for your mercy. But he did none of that. Tom brushed past you, towards the door. His fingers grasped the handle, slowly turning it, becoming more sure of his actions with each second. He opened the door, motioning with his hands for you to leave._

_Your eyes trailed up from the floor to lock with his. There was no love left, only hate for you. You wished you could take back whatever you did to make him feel so strongly against you. How could everything change so drastically?_

_You gulped and picked up your purse hanging from the chair, pausing to look at him one last time before you stepped outside. This was his last chance, to say something to make you stay. Another moment of silence passed, and Tom said nothing. You walked out and he slammed the door shut, the minute he did sobs came up from the bottom of your throat; your legs couldn’t move fast enough away from the man who no longer returned your feelings._

**Only know you love her when you let her go, and you let her go…**

* * *

Tom collapsed to his knees on the kitchen floor, the mug shattering into tiny pieces all around him, a few shards slicing into his skin. It was like he couldn’t feel it, he couldn’t feel anything anymore. He had no idea why you had grown apart, but now he would do anything to get you back again. Just to dance with you one more time, in the rain, in the sun, in the morning’s he’d grown to appreciate. You made him appreciate all the little things he used to miss, but now he noticed them all alone. He didn’t want anyone else, only you.

Tom buried his face in his hands, not knowing how to even begin to pick himself up. Letting you go was the worst decision he had ever made.

A knock interrupted his cries, and he groaned inwardly. He was in no state to speak to anyone in the moment, he just wanted to be alone. Tom stood to his feet, opening the door just a crack.

“Tom, it’s me…” you called in, hoping with every bone in your body he missed you in the way you missed him. You pushed open the door a little bit more, shocked to see tears in his eyes and little bloody cuts randomly striking into his arms. He stumbled backward, and you breathed deeply before taking that as an invitation into his home.

He looked like he had seen a ghost, he had no idea what to do, he was frozen in place. Your bottom lip trembled, and you took the risk. You lunged into him, throwing your arms around his neck, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He squeezed you tighter than ever before, partly to ensure that you were really in front of him, and partly so that he’d never let you go again.

 

“You came back…”


	9. It ain't me

**I’ll take with me the Polaroids and the memories, but you know I’m going to leave behind the worst of us.**

Your eyes scanned the white bedroom wall, which would be plain if it weren’t for the memories that lined it. Polaroids hung on strings of white Christmas lights, each bulb casting a shimmery glow on the pictures that from the outside looking in, seemed perfect. There were snapshots of you and Tom at elegant award parties, and even of more simpler dates, walking Tessa alongside the beach with his hand in your back pocket.

You were the picture-perfect couple in everyone else’s eyes. But they didn’t know the other side to him, the side only you and close friends saw. No one else took care of him like how you did. Your hand trembled as you began ripping each one from the clothespins that held them in place. You tossed each one into a basket, the only things you would keep of Tom. The pictures represented times where you truly were happy with him, and you didn’t want to throw those parts of him away.

Tom pushed open the door, groggy and hungover from the night before. He rubbed his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but you only continued to speed up the pace. His eyes flashed back and forth from the basket to your hands tearing away his most cherished memories to your packed up suitcase at his feet. He didn’t want it to make sense but it did, and the panic set in.

“Y/N, stop!” Tom shouted, moving forward to try and pry the basket of Polaroids from your grasp. You didn’t even look at him, because you were afraid that if you took your eyes off the wall you would cave in for the hundredth time. You were done crawling back this time.

“No.”

Your lack of a response stung in his chest, Tom couldn’t handle you leaving, especially like this. His hands squeezed the tops of your shoulders as he turned your body so you had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“Please, love, stay and we can talk through this,” Tom persuaded you, using his tired, old tricks. Looking into his pleading, warm, coffee-colored eyes, all you could see was what he did last night, and many times before.

**Who’s waking up to drive you home, when you’re drunk and all alone?**

_“Y/N, it’s Haz, you need to come to the bar,” Harrison’s concerned voice filled your ears, your phone pressed up against your cheek as the clock read 12:30 a.m._

_“What the fuck is it now, Harrison?” you mumbled, trying to contain your annoyance._

_“Tom… you need to drive him home; I’m done,” Harrison admitted. This was no surprise, you were the only one to call in this situation, no one else would do it for him. You agreed and pulled yourself out of bed, grabbing the keys on the nightstand to see what the trouble was this time._

_You pushed open the door to the seedy bar, a cloud of cigarette smoke blurring your vision. You scanned the room, eyes falling on Tom. Each hand was resting on two girl’s waists, sitting on his lap comfortably as he sweet-talked them and they ate up every lie that spilled from his mouth. They didn’t know him well enough to be immune to his tricks, but you did._

_You strided to the center of his sight, and once he noticed you he patted each girl, signalling them to move off of him. Tom stumbled forward, falling into your arms laughing, as if it was all just some inside joke you would never be a part of. You clasped his hands in yours, dragging his ass out of there, like you had done this same thing a million times before._

_“Head down,” you commanded, and he knew enough to listen to you to protect his reputation as you stepped out into the street and headed for your car. When you got him in safely and began the drive home, he blurted out his usual chain of empty excuses._

_“They were coming on to me, baby. You know I would never do anything with them. None of them are even half as beautiful as you are. I would never hurt you,” Tom slurred out, one after the other. The last one hurt especially hard, his promise to never hurt you, when his current actions made your heart ache. It made you realize he would never change, because he didn’t even see how much pain he was causing you._

_Your silence worried him, usually by now you would at least fight back or forgive him. Your silence was deafening._

_“You know I love you, right?” Tom used that one only when he was truly desperate._

_Silence._

You broke eye contact with him, pulling the basket tight into your chest as you shoved past him to grab your suitcase. He followed you out, rushing in front of you to block the door, a last ditch attempt to keep you from leaving him.

“Tom, get out of my way,” a coldness crept into your voice he had never heard before. He saw the resilience in your eyes, the way your jaw was clenched tight, your grip on your bag intense. Tom could see that you were determined to leave, even if you had to go through him to get to the door. His chin dropped to the floor, and he shuffled out of the way, not knowing what else to do or say.

“Y/N, I’m sorry…” he whimpered after you, and you stopped and turned to look at him one last time. This was the first time in awhile you heard the truth laced in his words. He wasn’t apologizing to get you back, but because he actually was sincere.

“You should be,” you snapped, no mercy, and you turned your back to him, slamming the door behind him.

Tom ran to the bedroom, sweeping the wall for anything you may have left behind. One Polaroid remained, loosely hanging near a burnt out bulb, his favorite memory of you two. You sat on his lap, arms slung around his shoulders, a gorgeous, wide smile plastered on your face. Tom took pride in that smile, he loved making you happy; it made him feel like he was at least doing something right. He pulled it off the line, grasping it in his hand as a teardrop slid down his flushed cheeks. Tom just hoped that whoever you ended up with, they could make you smile like he once did.

**But I know I won’t be home, and you’ll be on your own.**

* * *

Months after you left Tom, you walked hand in hand with your new boyfriend, who so far was proving to be the exact opposite of Tom. You approached him with caution, scars on your heart still present from the struggles of your last relationship. He was accommodating and patient and everything you could want.

The wind blew strands of your hair behind your shoulders, and you tossed your head to the side to clear your vision. You locked eyes with a man on the opposite side of the street, and you stopped dead in your tracks once you recognized him.

_Tom._

His eyes bore into you, begging for you to drop hands with the man next to you and run back into his arms. In your absence, he had worked to turn his poor habits around, not just for you but for him. Tom wanted to show you the new him, to show you he could treat you better. Part of you wanted to run to him, to leap into his arms and run your hands through his hair. But then the mixture of memories seeped back into your consciousness, good and bad alike. You weren’t about to hop back on that roller coaster of emotions.

“Do you know him?” your boyfriend’s voice broke your concentration. You swiveled your head to look into his eyes, as you shook your head.

“No. No, I don’t know him at all.”

You flashed Tom a last goodbye, with your eyes you warned him to stay away, that you weren’t going to be the one to save him anymore.

**It ain’t me.**


	10. Clean (harry holland)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for @tomsh0lland on tumblr's 10k writing challenge, with the prompt : "your turn to do the dishes" !!

You nuzzled your head deeper into Harry’s plain white t-shirt while all eyes in the room were glued to the fifth episode of Love Island playing in a row. The blinds remained tightly closed so not even a glimmer of sunlight shone through into the room; you didn’t even know if it was day or night. Harry often had that effect on you where nothing else seemed to matter.

 

You swung a leg over the top of his, grateful for his cozy, black sweatpants rubbing against your inner thigh. In response, he pulled you closer into his chest with an arm slung around your shoulders, and he tilted his face so his cheek rested on top of your forehead warmly. You breathed deeply into his snug cotton shirt and enjoyed being wrapped up in the boy you loved more than anything or anyone.

 

If you had to describe Harry Holland in one word it would be: home. He made you feel safe and secure, and sheltered from all the fearsome things happening out in the world. Not just that, you didn’t have to act like someone you weren’t; you could be you and at the same time feel loved and appreciated for that. He had your complete trust, which you didn’t give out easily. You were incredibly proud that amidst all the differences that separate you from others, you found someone who shared a certain rare commonness.

 

Thinking about how lucky you were, your eyes grew watery and Harry looked down, sensing your stares. Concerned, he slid down to your eye level and cupped your cheek with one hand.

 

“You alright, love?” he questioned, a hint of worry audible in his tone. You nodded and buried your face deeper into his palm as you ran a hand through his untamed, messy brown curls. He couldn’t help but whimper at your touch; he adored it when you toyed with his frizzy strands in between your fingers. You broke the sweet silence of the moment with words he dreaded hearing.

 

“Your curls are almost as messy as this room,” you whispered, eyes scanning the piles of dirty dishes stacked in mini towers in corners of the room, threatening to fall to the ground if given even one poke. Harry pretended to act oblivious and his cute nose crinkled up a bit.

 

“Oh, I guess it’s a bit dirty…” he admitted, inwardly praying you would drop the subject and cuddle more intimately into him. Picking up on this, you decided to try and let it go and turn your attention back to the drama-filled love show. For how much you and Harry had in common, the one thing that separated you two was his messiness and your obsession with cleanliness. The longer you stayed together, the more lax he made you, but the level of messiness in the room at the moment was eating you apart inside. You anxiously scrutinized each pile of dishes and rapidly tapped your fingers against the side of your thigh in a steady rhythm. After a few minutes, Harry finally gave in to your restlessness and pressed the pause button on the remote nearby him.

 

“Hey!” Haz and Tom yelled in unison, reminding you that they were there in the first place. Harry ignored their protests and read your mind with ease.

 

“Maybe we should clean up a bit…” he reluctantly suggested. Hearing his words of approval, you immediately jumped up and ran to the windows, opening up the blinds. Bright rays of sunshine finally made their way into the previous darkness that the room had fallen prey to. You grinned as all three boys buried their faces into the couch cushions, obnoxiously shouting at you for your eagerness.

 

“She’s crazy, Harry, get her the hell out of here!” Tom cried, throwing a pillow at Harry’s head, eliciting a deep sigh of frustration from him. You skipped over to your boyfriend and took both of his hands in yours, leaning backward on your heels to pull him up with you. He unwillingly stood on two feet, expecting you to do all the work, but you had another idea in mind.

 

You marched over to the tallest stack of dishes you could find and bent down to pick it up in your arms. Harry’s eyes filled with dread as you strided over to him and shoved the mountain of a mess into his chest. He almost fell over trying to balance it all, and stood on his tippy toes to peer at you from over the top of the heap, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

 

**“Your turn to do the dishes!”**  you cheered enthusiastically, leading him into the kitchen. Haz and Tom snickered and yelled at him to move out of the way of the screen and close the blinds on his way out. He begrudgingly followed and dropped the pile into the sink, not even trying to hide his angry glares at you. You tossed him a sponge and motioned at the mess awaiting him in the sink. He eventually stopped whining to pause and think, and you eyed him with suspicion.

 

“Can you at least stand by me and look pretty so this isn’t so boring?” he returned to his previous whining, and you hopped up to sit on the edge of the countertop next to him. You didn’t even bother trying to bite back your wide grins.

 

“Stop enjoying this so much!” he grumbled in annoyance, flashing you a quick scowl. You tried to meet his demands, but it wasn’t that easy as he attempted to scrub off day-old stains.

 

“Pass me that plate next to you, would ya?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes at him.

 

“Lazy,” you murmured quietly underneath your breath as you carried the dish to him.

 

“What was that?” he dared as he snatched the plate from your hands and set it behind you. Harry pressed his chest into yours so that your back was pushed against the counter. He trapped you in that position as both of his hands gripped the edge of the counter to your sides. Your eyes fluttered shut as he touched the tip of his nose to yours, so close you anticipated a soft kiss from him with excitement. He had something else in mind, though.

 

He quickly grabbed a hold of the sink side sprayer and doused you in a flurry of water, and you shrieked and pushed his chest away from you with great force.

 

“Harry, what the hell!” you screamed, but he continued to spray you with cold water, so you needed to act in retaliation. You leaped into him and wrestled the sprayer from his grasp so that you were in control of it. In the process, water showered all across the tiles on the floor, turning the fight much more slippery.

 

You shuffled backward and misted his body so completely that his shirt soon became see-through and his curls dripped water droplets down his flushed, freckled cheeks. You proudly held the upper hand, until you slipped in a pool of water and fell to the floor at Harry’s feet. He saw his opportunity and snatched the sprayer from your hands and crashed on top of you, spuming water all over your body.

 

“Truce, truce!” you desperately pleaded him for mercy and to your surprise he dropped the sprayer onto the floor next to you. He leaned down so his hair dripped tiny drops of water onto your cheeks, and you pushed his curls away from his forehead. Painfully slow, he inched closer and closer until he placed a smooth, clean kiss to your slippy lips. Your head fell back to hit the floor at his affectionate touch, and he laced his fingers in between the spaces in your knuckles. Harry made every single kiss romantic in a different way; it didn’t matter where you were it always took you to another world.

 

The sound of footsteps caused you both to stop and turn to look at the entrance to the kitchen. Haz and Tom had came to see what all the screams had been about, and they stood in awe at the water that dripped from the ceiling and the numerous puddles in every corner of the room.

 

“You two divs are cleaning this up yourselves.”


	11. Kiss Me

You nuzzled your head into Tom’s cozy chest, covered in one of the flannels you thought made him look even more adorable. The only times lately you could see each other was when you had downtime in between shows, and he took every opportunity he could to see and support you. It meant a lot to have him in the front row to every one of your shows that he could make it to, considering how busy he was. You still always felt butterflies whenever you stepped on stage, but the moments when you spotted Tom’s face smiling up at you made you feel more confident and empowered.

 

You cleared your throat, a little worried to bring up a topic you and him usually pushed aside.

 

“Hey, uh, Tom?” you began with a shaky voice. His head craned to meet your eyes and your heart pounded in your chest at his attention.

 

“Yeah, love?” he prodded you to go on.

 

“Uh, so you know how at the last show you posted a picture to your Instagram of me? Well, there’s a lot of rumors flying around now, so maybe we could, I don’t know, come clean?” your eyes shifted downwards, scared he would reject your proposal. Instead, his response was the exact opposite of what you feared.

 

“Really! Yeah, we should! I kinda wanted to say something earlier, but I thought with you being on tour and everything, you’d want to focus on that,” Tom clarified. You moved to sit on his lap as he welcomed you with open arms, pulling you in close to his face.

 

“Okay, great! So, how are we going to do this?” you questioned, even though you already had a good idea in mind. Tom shifted into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it high in the air as if it were golden.

 

“I have a perfect idea! Let’s do it right now; how do you turn on those Instagram live things again? I’m so bad at it,” he suggested excitedly, moving the phone into your hands so you could turn it on for him. You always smiled at how one of the best actors in the business could move people to tears, but not know how to work filters or end his live videos. You closed out of the app and shook your head at him.

 

“Actually, I kind of already had an idea…” you started to speak, too shy to admit your plan. He cocked his head to the side and motioned you to continue, a smirk evident on his full, pink lips.

 

“Uh, well… I kind of wrote this song for you. I was thinking, I mean only if you wanted to, you could be a part of my music video?” you bit your lip and glanced up at him, awaiting his reaction. Tom beamed ear to ear, thrilled you wanted to take this step with him by your side.

 

“Of course! This is so amazing, darling, I’m honored you’re letting me be in it with you,” he cupped your chin in his smooth hands and placed a short and sweet kiss on your lips. You grinned down on him and jumped off his lap to snatch up your guitar to finally play the song you’ve been overthinking and rewriting until it felt perfect for him.

 

“So, it goes kind of like this, just so you know…” your eyes twinkled at him as he leaned forward in his chair and flashed you a quick wink.

 

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved_

 

_You wanna be loved_

 

_You wanna be loved_

 

_This feels like falling in love_

 

_Falling in love_

 

_We’re falling in love_

 

You looked up to gaze at Tom and your guitar slipped out of your hands in shock. A teardrop glided down his cheek from his captivating chocolatey-brown eyes. You ran to him and intertwined your fingers in with his, embracing him firmly chest to chest. You could feel his breathing increase as his chest rose up and down against yours at a steady pace.

 

You lifted your thumb to graze his skin, wiping away the watery streak on his cheek. Without another moment to spare, your hands gripped the back of his neck and you tugged him forward to meet your lips passionately. Kissing him was always full of feeling; this one in particular was heated and energetic, but he brought a gentleness to the kiss that made it that much more intimate. You used to be afraid to make yourself vulnerable in a relationship, but with Tom you felt safer than ever, like you could be your true self with him. He made everything else disappear.

 

“You have no clue how much this means to me,” Tom broke away to confess. You blushed in return, thrilled to start showing him how you imagined the music video to go. You stood to your feet and leaned backward on your heels to drag him up with you.

 

“So, Tommy, show me your best moves,” you commanded in a playful tone. He gave you an overconfident smug smile, and he didn’t have to say the words out loud for you to know he was thinking ‘you haven’t seen anything yet.’

 

You took a few obnoxiously big steps backward and motioned with you arms for him to go on. Tom shifted his weight onto one foot and with his other leg pushed off the ground like he was a graceful plane taking off to soar among the clouds. His arms guided the process, at first extending all the way out like a morning stretch, then he locked his fingers together to form a circle with the elegant shape his arms made. He moved so fast, yet you took it all in in slow-motion, from the way his leg reached out with his toe pointed in the midst of his twirl, to the look of pure concentration written across his face. It was the most beautiful dance you had ever bore witness too; it was like he moved in every direction at once but appeared steady and focused.

 

Just when you thought he couldn’t possibly impress you anymore, he brought his toe to rest on his inner thigh as he continued to spin, and one arm outstretched to the ceiling, signalling he was nearing the end. In one last motion, his entire body seemed to collapse inward, then burst forth in a final extension. His momentum sent him towards where you stood, gaping in awe.

 

Tom flicked his head back to send a few stray curls where they belonged, and blushed heavily at your reaction. You could tell he only danced in front of people he felt comfortable with, regardless of how incredibly talented he was. Maybe that was a shame, but you liked the feeling of him showcasing his dancing to you; it was like a personal secret you held together.

 

“So, are you gonna say something… I know, I’m really rusty, but you still want to do the video, right?” he asked as if he didn’t realize how stunning his performance was. All you could do was nod in response, and take up both his hands in yours.

 

“You’re kidding right?” you asked, dazed at his modesty. His face fell, assuming you didn’t want him to dance with you anymore.

 

“Oh, okay… Yeah, you should probably get a real, professional dancer anyways,” he recommended, trying and failing to cover up his disappointment. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud, and Tom looked up, a little shocked.

 

“Tom, no, I mean you’re actually kidding right? That was… fluid and graceful and just… beautiful,” you gushed, and brought a bright smile to his face in the process.

 

“You really think so?” his skin flushed rosy pink.

 

“I know so,” you admitted without a hint of uncertainty present in your voice. His shoulders relaxed and you jerked his body forward so you could feel his heart fluttering. You ran your fingers nimbly through his waves and tilted his neck to the side so you could pepper him in kisses.

 

_“Will you give me this next dance, Tommy?”_


	12. Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mob!tom au

“If you said you don’t want to push me then why are you even bringing it up?” Tom sighed, letting the metal fork fall from his fingers and clang against the table as he stood up, angrily shoving the chair off to the side. You copied his movements, frustrated you even had to explain yourself in the first place.

“Because, Tom, it’s been almost eight months and we still have all our dates in this apartment. I get you need time but we can’t hide this forever!” you snapped, usually the other way around.

“Not now,” he flippantly pushed aside the recurring topic like it wasn’t going to come up again. You ran your fingers through your hair, nails digging into your scalp so hard you feared you’d rip out each strand. Tom’s jaw clenched, his hands clung to the countertop to try and keep his cool. Anyone else who spoke to him the way you had would have suffered a painful death at his hands, but he would never do that to you. Hurting you was something he could never bring himself to do, at least on purpose.

“Then when? Tell me when so I don’t fall more and more for someone who hides me away like I don’t matter!” your voice cracked, turning away so he wouldn’t see you cry.

Tom wanted to tell you that he just couldn’t, that he’d never be able to tell his friends or family about you. He couldn’t make what you had real, and he couldn’t bring you into his world. If it came to the breaking point, he’d rather let you go then expose you to the mob.

You wanted to let him see what he was doing to you, how utterly worthless you felt hidden in his shadow, never to meet the light. Tom toyed with your emotions, stringing you along hopelessly with no control. All you could do was wait for him. Turning back to face him, you crept back into his arms, reassuringly running your hand through his messy brown curls, his head falling backward a few inches at your touch.

“It’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it,” you forced a smile upon your lips previously bent down in a frown. Tom tried to return the smile, the corners of his mouth shifted up weakly. Both of you knew you were just slapping a band-aid on a bullet hole, but you would do it over and over again if it was the only thing keeping you together.

 

* * *

The next night, you twirled your finger aimlessly in your drink, spinning around the chunks of ice floating inside the cool, frosty glass. Your friends laughed and told stories at the bar, you sat on the outside but tried to cave into the distraction. They even managed to crack a few laughs from you, and for a second or two, you completely forgot about Tom.

Bells jingled at the entrance, a group of men in expensive looking suits drew your attention in, a jittery feeling building in your chest. The last one in specifically caught your eye, the same brunette waves, this time kept under control with gel. You whipped around in the chair, hiding your face under your hair to avoid his gaze.

“Can we leave now?” you half-whispered to your friends, praying they would agree and you could leave unnoticed. They didn’t seem to hear you amidst the loud background noise, so you grabbed your purse and tried to escape the bar alone. A hand grabbed your wrist and your heart pounded in your ears, too afraid to see who it was, but hoping it would be him.

“Where are you going to so fast, love?” an unfamiliar voice jeered and you spun around, horrified at the stranger coming onto you. You tried to shake away his hold on your wrist, but his clasp only strengthened. Squirming back from him, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back into his trap. Eyes wildly searching out for Tom, you found him right away. He locked onto you, a steely, coldness shot out from his hard glare. He sat completely still, not even lifting a finger at the scene unraveling in front of him, the scene that he should have broke apart the second he saw it.

No emotion or ounce of care was present in his normally warm, full of light, brown eyes. You had grown to know and fall in love with Tom Holland, but not the same man who was ensnared in the mob. This Tom didn’t care if you got hurt, if he hurt you. And you were so fucking naive for thinking you could make a difference, that you’d ever be able to get him to come clean.

“Let go of me!” you screamed, heads turning to see the commotion, and you shoved away from the man with all the force you had, managing to slip away from his grasp. Running out the door, you didn’t even bother to look back. Yet, a part of you clung on to the hope, the dream, that Tom would come bursting out the door, begging for you to come back in. You couldn’t stand around waiting for him anymore, he was beyond finished and he had made that perfectly clear.

Trudging past the bar, you couldn’t help but glance through the tainted windows, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Tom sat grinning in a circle of his mobster friends, clinking glasses, obviously not concerned in the slightest of the hell he put you through. Suffocating from the tears all streaming down at once, you took off, leaving Tom behind and in the past.

 

* * *

The night faded into morning, your eyes still trained against the ceiling, memorizing every long sliver and patch of chipped white paint on its surface. You couldn’t blink, zoning out so that only one thought, only one memory replayed repeatedly in your brain. Of Tom grinning carelessly after pretending not to know you, like you never meant shit in the first place. The worst part was you had seen it coming, every sign loud and clear, but you had pushed away the warnings and fell deeper and deeper into his trap he called love.

Another sobbing fit overtook every bone in your body, shaking so bad you just let it all happen, there was no point in resisting the pain. A tingling numbness crept across your skin, little goosebumps raising on the surface, but not from the cold, from a man who had stolen pieces of you. You laid on top of the covers frozen still except for the cries breaking free from your quivering lips; your chest ached from the constant heaving and inability to breathe normally. Would the hurt he left you ever subside?

The door creaked open and his footsteps halted at the foot of the bed, Tom’s eyes full of concern at the sight of you practically lifeless in front of him. A terrible wave of guilt swept over him, he had known you would be upset, but never in his imagination could he have pictured you this broken. The weight of the mattress shifted as he climbed up on the bed next to you, his fingers reaching out to run through you hair beside him.

“Please don’t touch me, Tommy,” you whimpered, voice barely able to enunciate the words caught in the back of your throat. He slowly brought his hand to rest uncomfortably in his lap, not used to being so close yet no contact with you, feeling useless.

“I’m sorry…” he responded with words he had never allowed himself to say to anyone before. Your back lay turned to him and you tried to stifle your sobs with the pillow held tightly to your chest, but you failed to do so, bursting into another fit of miserable cries. Your sounds bled into his ears, holding heavy on his heart knowing it was all because of him. Watching you shake as if you were having a seizure, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He pulled you into his arms, clutching onto you so rigidly, and you went limp in his grasp, not caring if you simply stopped breathing altogether in that moment. Tom’s head fell to his chest, soft cries fleeing from his lips too. The harder he cried, the harder he held onto you, trying to bring the life he took back into you, to fix you and put you back together. The only thing left he could do, though, was break you again and again until there’s nothing left to break.

“Is there any way to,” his words drifted out of your consciousness. Maybe he had stopped speaking or maybe you just blocked them out, knowing there was no way to repair your relationship. The wound had festered so deeply a band-aid couldn’t keep it together anymore.

_“It’s torture being in love with you.”_

Your honesty ripped Tom apart and shot straight into his heart, leaving him flinching at the undeniable truth. He wanted to scream at you, “please let me fix you, let me treat you like a princess and make it all better.” Pulling away from him, you slung your legs across the edge of the bed, bare feet meeting the cool ground, trembling as you stood and walked to the door.

Hand on the doorknob, you reluctantly twisted it to the side, holding it open for him to leave. His eyes bore into you, wanting to plead with you for another chance, but knowing he would just repeat his actions. Striding to meet you at the door, his hand cupped your cheek, planting one last kiss on your lips, taking your breath away.

Watching Tom walk away, you leaned against the wooden door, sliding down to the bottom. Oxygen returned to your lungs and the corners of your mouth tilted up just a little, feeling like an overbearing weight was lifted off your chest. Sometimes the only way to heal is to let go of the person breaking you in the first place.


	13. when the party's over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> frat!tom college au

“I did it Y/N!”

Tom’s teeth flashed through his smile, and it soon contagiously spread to your lips as well, pride bubbled in your chest over his excitement. He gripped the essay you’d been working on together for weeks so tightly as if the grade was too good to be true and would slip out of his grasp.

“Tom, that’s great!” you squealed, jumping out of your chair to get closer, almost as if he could say the word and pull your strings like you were his puppet. Tossing the paper behind his shoulder, Tom’s hands trailed down to your waist, lifting you a couple inches off the floor. Spinning you in a circle, you let out a peel of laughter and collapsed into his arms. Not sure how much time had passed, you soaked up every second with his hands sizzling on your hips. This wasn’t real, it had to be a really vivid dream. No harm could come from spilling your true thoughts.

 “I like you, Tom,” you blurted out before you could hold the four words on the tip of your tongue where they could be kept safe and unspoken.

 “I like you too, duh,” he grinned, not understanding the heart dripping into your confession.

 “No, I –  _really_  like you,” you sputtered out, regretting the decision immediately. Your head fell to the floor, too scared to meet his confused eyes. Judging by your reaction, the truth soon came across crystal clear to him.

 “Oh.”

 His hands dropped from your body and he cautiously stepped backward; the distance spoke for itself. His face drew a blank, paralyzing your limbs as you stared into his untelling eyes, waiting for him to say anything at all other than that.

 “So… yeah,” your voice splintered to pieces, head hanging heavy as you pathetically scrambled for your belongings. Tom lunged for your hand, his touch lingering over your anxious, trembling fingertips. But it held no meaning behind it, just a useless gesture that couldn’t fill the emerging space between you and him. Jerking your hand back, your eyes glazed over and sent a pang of pity through him as you turned and ran for the library door.

 

**_Call me friend but keep me closer…_ **

****

* * *

Hours passed and you leaned your back against the wooden banister at a frat house whose name you struggled to remember. Your hold on the red plastic cup tightened as you tipped your head back, pinky outstretched. Gasping for air, the liquid blazed a path down your throat and you stumbled over your feet, sloping to the side. Two hands caught you before your head could smack against the floor, and you turned your chin up to sneak a glimpse of your “rescuer.”

 “Uh, hey,” Tom awkwardly met your questioning stare, eyes narrowed over his hands still present on you after the scene at the library earlier that day. You couldn’t feel any of the emotions from before and you took advantage of the boldness just a few cups could give you. Breaking the silent pause, he scanned over the cup in between your fingers and in response you loosened your grip, letting it fall and roll over the carpet.

 “Oops,” you whispered and Tom couldn’t help but brush aside tiny wisps of hair that masked your eyes from his.

 “How drunk are you?” he smirked, in an attempt to break apart the awkwardness. You sighed deeply as if you had to ponder the question to answer honestly.

 “Drunk how are you?” you twisted his words, not aware of your mistake but managed to tug at the corners of Tom’s slender lips. A blush flushed across his cheeks, but you didn’t break your gaze as he glanced to the floor, a bit embarrassed for you.

 “Babe, you can only say that if you’re high, you realize that right?” he teased, growing more comfortable with the game. Your temperature spiked at what you assumed was a slip-up on his part, but it didn’t stop you from wishing you could hear his voice wake you up like that every morning.

 “Maybe I am,” you snapped right back at him. Tom’s eyebrows shot up, and he paused to take a slurp of some random cup sitting on the banister, needing some courage of his own.

 “Maybe you should stop,” he suggested and his voice lowered as if he was telling you a secret. Shaking your head in an exaggerated movement back and forth, you shot down his concerned attempts and jumped right back in.

 “Maybe we should start…” you challenged, leaving him dumbfounded for a brief, passing moment. Tom sucked his lower lip inside his mouth and swept his tongue over it so he could choose his response with care. Because he couldn’t speak of the trust issues and the heartache and the fear of allowing himself to be vulnerable from a girl who had, in his mind, ruined any chance of him loving again. So, he didn’t.

 “Listen, I’m sorry but I’m not looking for–”

 “Did I say I was?” you cut Tom off before he could break you for the second time that day.

 You leaned in so close you could feel his ragged breaths hot against your cheeks, nervous that he could hear your heart beating out of your chest from the proximity. He couldn’t tear his eyes off your lips, wanting more than anything to close the space between you. You knew you were only opening yourself up to Tom because having him this way was better than not having him at all, but you told yourself you were fully capable of a one night stand. You couldn’t catch feelings you had already caught.

 Tom could see the pain hiding in your eyes and every move you made towards him. He knew how wrong it would be to take advantage of that, but he could never tell of the strong feelings he felt for you in return. If this was the only way he could be with you, then–

 “Fuck it,” Tom murmured before crashing his lips into yours. It was surreal and better than anything you could have imagined, he left you entire body feeling weak and without control. The only thing you could do was put your trust in him and sling your arms over the tops of his shoulders as he led you up the staircase.

 

**_I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that…_ **

 

* * *

Blinking away the blurriness and black spots that danced across your vision, your eyes fought to adjust to the darkened room around you. The alcohol left it’s bittersweet after effects, your head pounded and all your thoughts jumbled up into one unclear mess. Turning over to the side, you skimmed over the strong arm loosely flung over your waist, keeping you close to him.

  _Tom?_

You couldn’t stop your heart from thumping uncontrollably in your chest and anxious butterflies flew around in your stomach. Your mouth was too dry to swallow back the regret that overflowed into every conscious thought and action. Feeling for your phone, you checked the time and cursed inwardly that it was already 7:00 am, knowing you would have to do the walk of shame past all his frat buddies. But anywhere was better than next to a boy you knew would never return the same feelings.

 Crawling out of the bed, you scrambled across the floor for your clothes, inching opening the door as quiet as possible. Before you slipped out, you gave Tom one last glance, sleeping peacefully, and wondered if he’d even care when he woke up all alone.

 Tears silently flowed down your cheeks as you quickly and stealthily slipped out the door and walked across campus to your dorm. You kept your eyes trained to the sidewalk; all you let yourself think about was putting one foot in front of the other and resisting the urge to run back to that bed where he lay. Finally, you stood in front of your room and clambered to unlock the door, the minute you were in you clicked it shut and slid down to the floor. The sobs you held back from the moment you woke up escaped and echoed through the empty room. Maybe the night before had been amazing, but it wasn’t real and it never would be real. 

The party was over.

 

**_Quiet when I’m coming home, and I’m on my own…_ **


	14. breaking down

_“And every time I kiss you, baby, I can hear the sound of breaking down.”_

For better or for worse, in sickness and in health.

 

There’s always the fear that runs through you before you push open the chapel doors, the last moment of solitude where you wonder if he’s the one you’re meant to be with for the rest of your life. That “should I really do this?” is brushed off as common pre-wedding jitters; movies and tv shows have taught you that succumbing to these thoughts and running away only brings hurt.

 

You plan for the worst-case scenario, for the cancer and the heart complications and the 10 months to live and you tell yourself “in sickness and in health.” But what isn’t in the marriage vows is what to do when a house once full of laughter and cuddles becomes overshadowed by a lingering emptiness. They don’t tell you what to do when your perception clouds over with the fear that you’re merely a burden to the man who once looked at you like you put up all the stars in the sky as he said:

 

“I do.”

 

In the beginning, Tom used to faithfully live out every one of his vows, going above and beyond to ensure your happiness and you of course treated him with the same passion. Long days were met with kisses and bubble baths and if you had to cry, you cried together. Now if you had to cry you hid in the bathroom, turning on the faucet to drown out your cries with the sound of running water filling up the tub.

 

You wish you could pinpoint the exact moment you and Tom stopped being you and Tom. You wish it were as simple as tracking the issue to its source and patching up the broken pipe, but it was more of a series of small things that piled up on top of each other.

 

It was the way he slowly stopped saying “I love you,” when you needed to hear those three words more than ever. It was how Tom would deny invitations to go to after-parties so he could get home to you faster, but then started to snatch up every spare excuse to leave the house.

 

But worst of all it’s how you cut ties with friends and family to accommodate his famous lifestyle with yours, and you moved into a world where Tom’s the sun and your sole purpose is to revolve around him. Those pre-wedding jitters became a reality; the man you devoted everything to became less and less interested and you grew more and more alone.

 

That’s how you found yourself there, standing in the doorway to Tom’s office, looking in as his brows knitted together and eyes scrunched up with his latest script splayed out on the desk in front of him.

 

“Hey, Tommy?” you called out, trying to muster as much confidence as you could. You needed to have this conversation but that didn’t make it any easier.

 

_“What do you want.”_

 

It wasn’t a question, it was an annoyance, a burden to what he really cared about: his career.

 

“Is that really how you’re going to talk to me?” you began, not holding back, not this time. Tom sighed, throwing down his script and tossing his glasses over the top of the mess of papers. He spun around in the chair to face you, and let his head rest to the side in the palm of his hands, an eyebrow raised at you as if to say ‘get it out, already.’

 

“Okay, it’s fine. I get it. Everything else I give to you isn’t enough anymore, now it disgusts you to even be in the same room as me,” you rolled your eyes, pushing open the door, you stepped closer to him. Tom’s forehead crinkled up, feeling even more frustrated than he did before. He didn’t know what the right words to say were, so he gave up and said the first things that came to mind no matter how much they would sting.

 

“I just love how you put words in my mouth, because I’m always the bad guy and you play the victim every damn time,” he snapped, leaning forward with his hands folded across his lap. There was no warmth to his brown eyes that used to be able to make your heart flutter with just one smile, just one look.

 

That was complete bullshit. You’d love more than anything for the roles to be reversed so he could feel how it feels to have your love unreciprocated. To constantly give and give and give and get nothing in return.

 

“You think I like coming up to you like this, Tom? Begging like a fucking dog for spare scraps of your love whenever you decide I’ve been good enough to deserve you? This isn’t a mutual relationship anymore, it’s become me giving you everything and you taking only the pieces that you want. I’m not playing the victim, I genuinely feel hurt by the way you treat me, and if that means nothing to you then there’s no hope for us,” you strove to explain your thoughts, pouring every last bit of your heart into your words so maybe Tom would understand.

 

Tom’s expression softened, cringing at the tears that pooled up in the corners of your eyes that he knew were all because of him. More than anything, he’d like to think of himself as one of the sweet characters he plays that are incapable of truly intending to hurt someone. But he was Tom Holland, not Peter Parker.

 

“Tell me what I’m doing wrong then,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, like it was a challenge. He might as well have just said ‘prove it’ instead. You gulped, eyes dropping to the floor then snapping back up to stare right into his cold gaze.

 

**“Remember our vows? The ones we spoke at our wedding? Because it seems you might have forgotten.”**

 

Tom’s chin jerked back, your words striking him like a slap across the face. He planted his feet into the ground and stood up, further closing in on the space between you and him. Tom brought his fingers to graze over your cheek and you melted into his touch, at this point taking and running with any little bit of affection he offered you.

 

“The honeymoon was over a long time ago, Y/N,” he whispered, the truth was like twisting the knife he stabbed into you from the very first fight. You didn’t know when he became so mean and callous, when he adapted this new skill of shutting off his emotions entirely when talking to his wife.

 

You backed away, spinning around and slamming the office door behind you. You ran straight for the bathroom and slammed that door shut as well, falling down as your knees buckled and smacked against the tiles. Desperately sucking in a breath, immediately followed by sputters of cries that blended together from your trembling, tear-stained lips.

 

There was a knock against the door, and you held your breath, face turning pink as you rocked back and forth to try and keep him from hearing you hurt. No water running this time, no hiding from it anymore.

 

He gradually inched the door open, watching as you refused to turn around and continued to rock back and forth, arms holding your knees pulled in tight to your chest on the bathroom floor.

 

“I’m so sorry…” Tom apologized, kneeling to the floor to wrap his arms around you, bringing you into his wide-open embrace, a feeling you almost forgot. You let your head rest against his chest, tears flowed down your cheeks and dropped into his lap. Tom let out a shaky breath and continued to apologize, doing all the talking for once.

 

“Please, please don’t leave me, I’ll do better, I promise! Just give me a chance, and if I don’t prove to you how much this marriage means to me then I wouldn’t hold it against you if you left, but not yet. Please…” Tom begged, placing his heart on the line for you.

 

You shifted around to meet his eyes, warm and soft and falling apart, and you remember what it felt like when you first fell in love with Tom. How it evolved into a partnership, a safety net, a home. Tom took the chance, leaning in to softly press his lips against yours, the salty taste of your tears stinging against his bottom lip. It was a breath of fresh air after being held underwater for months. There’s nothing like it;  **there’s no place like home.**

 

You nod into his chest, unable to speak but your movements spoke for you. Tom let out a deeper cry than the ones before, a thankful one because he almost lost his girl, he almost let you slip away between the cracks of your marriage. He was right when he said the honeymoon was over a long time ago, and that’s the hardest part of maintaining a relationship, when it becomes more than just fluttery feelings and you’re faced with decisions that will impact the both of you. That’s when it gets hard, when you start to break down.

 

But that’s when you don’t give up on each other.


	15. stockholm syndrome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based off the song by 1D

**_“Baby, I’ll never leave if you keep holding me this way.”_ **

 

Tom couldn’t tear his eyes off of you, snuggled up underneath the blankets, sleeping so softly and uninterrupted. It wasn’t that he wanted to interrupt this, he just felt like it was necessary. He scrolled through the messages he hadn’t checked up on in a while with one hand, the other lightly stroking your hair. There were a lot, but most of them from the group chat he shared with Haz, Harry, and Sam:

_12 hrs. ago_

**Sam:**  uh, Tom?

**Haz:**  he’s not going to answer cause he’s with y/n ;)

**Sam:**  yeah but it’s been like–

**Harry** : four days…

**Haz:**  oh shit has it really??

**Harry:**  they’re practically living together now

**Sam:**  no they’re just ‘cozy’

**Haz:**  should we check on him tho to see if he’s okay?

**Harry:**  earth to Tom

**Sam:** prolly too busy ;) ya know

_30 min. ago_

**Harry:**  okay but now i’m actually worried

**Haz:**  same but what do u want to do about it?

**Harry** : idk it’s not like we can just go over there… right?

****

**_“I know they’ll be coming to find me soon, but I fear I’m getting used to being held by you.”_ **

 

The messages ended there, and Tom had a feeling they started their own chat without him. His gaze fell back to you cuddled up against his chest and it just felt so wrong to break apart. The days blended into one big mass of time and it felt so natural with you, even in moments where neither of you spoke, it wasn’t awkward: it was comfortable.

 

He had to do something, though, to make sure his brothers and best friend didn’t crash through your door anytime soon. He sent them a simple “hey, it’s all good,” and nudged you with his shoulder so that you jolted awake. Tom loved the way your eyes circled the room nervously whenever you woke up like you always forgot where you were. Even better was how you visibly relaxed into him when your eyes found his, because you knew no matter where you were, if you were with Tom, you were home.

 

“Hey,” your voice cracked, slightly raspy and dry but it brought a widespread smile to Tom’s thin lips at the sound of your sleepy tone. He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head and started to pull you up to stand along with him. You groaned and fought back to yank him back down to the couch but he shot you a teasing glare. Huffing loudly, you reluctantly stood, immediately jumping onto his back and looping your legs and arms around him. Tom’s hands wrapped around your ankles as he gave you a piggyback ride into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter to slid you over to the top of it.

 

He spun around to face you, grin slowly easing off his face as he rubbed his hands up and down your thighs and your eyebrows raised suspiciously.

 

“So, here’s the thing…” Tom began, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks before he even got four words out. You sucked in a breath and held it there, dropping your eyes from him to focus on your feet, slightly kicking back and forth off the edge of the countertop.

 

“I don’t if you’ve realized it too, but we’ve been together in your apartment for four days straight,” he continued, eyes snapping up to judge your reaction.

 

“Four days?” you echoed, jaw hanging open in surprise. You tried to retrace your steps, but it felt like time with him went by so fast and slow at the same time. It wasn’t like you’d stayed holed up in your apartment the entire time; you’d gone shopping together a few times and went on coffee shop and dinner dates, just always came home to the same place.

 

But it wasn’t his home, and now you were sure that he was about to make that fact perfectly clear. You wanted to plug your ears and hum over him to avoid the dreaded conversation because there was always this conversation no matter what with you. It’s not that you were “clingy,” but you loved passionately and never held yourself back. Not everyone felt the same way, and that often led to people backing away and your feelings getting hurt.

 

Tom opened his mouth and closed it in the same breath, his chest rising and falling so rapidly. He shouldn’t feel bad, you thought, it’s not like this was the first time you’ve heard someone say it.

_I care about you, but we’re moving a bit too fast._

_I really like you, Y/N, but I think we should take some time apart_

_You’re suffocating me and I need room to breathe and time to think_

 

Whether you dated a guy or a girl or whatever gender, it was always the same talk; there was no escaping the dreaded conversation so you nodded your head and bit back tears for him to continue.

 

“Just say it, okay?” you cried, a few stray tears broke loose and rolled down your cheeks. Tom slid his hands up from your thighs to cradle your chin in his palms.

 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, concern laced into his words. You rolled your eyes, wiping away the tears with your fingertips as you glared into his irresistibly warm chocolate eyes.

 

“Say it already, Tom. You’re sick of me and I’m too clingy and you wanna  _take a break_ ,” you snapped, not wasting any time to cut straight to the point.

 

“Oh, I was actually gonna suggest we move in together…”

 

Tom looked away for a brief second, fearful of your response. You tugged at his curls to regain his focus, eyes wildly searching into his to confirm the truth in his statement.

 

“What?” was all you could muster, and Tom chuckled at your response. His hands wrapped around your wrists as he pulled your hands out of his hair and set them in your own lap. He just raised an eyebrow and gave you a little nod of the head to demonstrate he meant what he said.

 

A smile lit up across your face because of course, Tom was different than the rest. He saw the way you treated him as a good sign and wanted to move even further, to take even bigger steps. And you wanted to hop on his back and take each step with him.

 

“Nothing would make me happier,” you whispered, foreheads grazing each other. Tom smiled back up at you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer across the counter into him for a heated kiss. Tom couldn’t hold the kiss for longer than a few seconds because his lips kept bending up into a smile. Your fingers traced his jawline gently as you pulled away and tilted your head to the side, hair falling into his face.

_“Look what you’ve done to me.”_


End file.
